


Walking on Moonlit Paths

by Sandentwins



Series: As the Golden Condor Flies [3]
Category: Taiyou no Ko Esteban | Les Mystérieuses Cités d'or | The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Crying, Domestic Fluff, Dorkiness, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Headcanon, Illustrations, Leitmotiv, Pregnancy, Romance, Sacrifice, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandentwins/pseuds/Sandentwins
Summary: “Do you sometimes wonder whether your life is already traced out? Whether or not you truly have a choice in what you're doing?”How Esteban's parents came to meet, and how their encounter changed both of their worlds.





	Walking on Moonlit Paths

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Nos Chemins sous la Lune](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214664) by [Sandentwins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandentwins/pseuds/Sandentwins)



> I dedicate this piece to all of those like me who love backstories no one else cares about, to those who enjoy hearing about the characters' parents and how they came to meet, because these trivial romances eventually allow the story to exist in the first place.  
> And to the, like, three people in the back who remember Esteban also has a mom; unlike the writers who'll either leave us in the dark or play us really dirty in season 4. 
> 
> Anyway, mild spoilers for [His Winged Machine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17518391), since you're about to read what's basically a prequel.

He's not sure of what he's doing here.

He's had a difficult day. A difficult week. And a difficult everything before. He doesn't want to just stay idle and wonder where his life is going to end. He doesn't want to keep running away from a threat that might or might not exist anymore. All he wants is some stability. Something familiar to latch onto.

Maybe that's what brought him to the Temple of the Sun.

He's just a lost man with nothing to his name but a wrecked ship, some maps and the clothes on his back. He's arrived in this village after a long, exhausting journey on tempestuous seas. He can't even claim to have lived a pure life free of vices. So he knows he will not get the Sun God's attention by any means, but that's not what he seeks. For now, he just wants a moment of peace.

He puts some gold coins on the altar as an offering, and keeps his head lowered as he prays silently. There are other people here, for most natives of this land. Some of them look sick; some of them look hungry. Some of them look like they have nothing left to themselves but their meager bones. And Athanaos feels like he's in the wrong place here, that he shouldn't have come here unless he was as poor and miserable as these fellows who have for some lost everything. He feels like a stranger, an intruder in the sacred peace of this temple, and he knows he's being stared at. But he ignores it, and keeps praying. For what, he doesn't know. But he feels like it is the right thing to do.

He doesn't know how much time he spends here. Time is none of his concern anymore, and he has nowhere else to go anyway. For two days now he has been sleeping outside, stranded in a country whose language he barely knew, where everyone was wary of people looking like him, and where no one was likely to find him. It was both a good and a bad thing, the balance of which was always tipping away in his anxious mind.

A gentle voice brought him from his thoughts, and he raised his head. In front of him, one of the temple maidens was holding out a bowl to him, speaking some soft words in Quechua. He glanced around, and saw that others were also being gifted food. Homeless and sick people, who had nothing but Inti's help to rely on. Was he being taken for one of them? He didn't know what to think of that, but he wasn't going to deny his own hunger. He politely accepted the food, mumbling a confused thanks in his native Greek. The maiden likely didn't understand, but smiled anyway, a warm smile that his own mouth soon returned. She left a moment later, paying no more attention to him than to anyone else.

Though after all he's been through, a little bit of kindness never hurt. And even if it was impersonal, he was grateful for it.

~~~~~

She didn't follow on everything her friends are telling, but she knew for a fact it isn't very interesting. Oh, could they make it any more boring? She's already heard this one story a handful of times, and it was nowhere near as exciting as they wanted everyone to believe.

She focused her attention on the young plant in front of her, carefully pruning the leaves of this little tomato stalk. It was but a baby, but it would grow up very fast in the upcoming months, especially with such good sunlight. She felt proud of herself for helping so much with the gardens. She liked to take care of things like these, it made her feel useful. And she was likely much more useful than the others, but she didn't want to say it out loud. She had no need to, after all, for everyone else could see it. Those who claim they are better than everyone else are those who doubt it, and want to hear it to reassure themselves; and she didn't doubt it a single second.

“Killa, the water pail is empty. Can you go and fetch some?”

Finally a chance to take a good walk! In no way would she pass on this occasion.

“Gladly.”

She took the pail Sumailla was handing out, and happily went on her way to the stream. It was a bit of a walk away, but it would give her time to daydream and think of other things. Even if she was very diligent in her work, everyone needed some time to themselves, and she was no exception.

The stream was a quiet, lush place where she liked to be. It would inspire more than one artist to come sit under the shade of the trees around and think up some poem or tale. And in such a hot day, water was very welcome, which maybe explained why she lingered a little more than usual. Using the reflection of the calm water, she took the time to readjust the few ornaments in her hair. A maiden of the sun needed dignity and order, and she had to look the part.

As she was done filling up the pail, she heard a splashing noise downstream. Something heavy had just fallen into the water. She quickly raised her head, fearing that a wild animal was coming near, and stood still for a second. Then a hand came out of the water and held onto a tree's roots, before trying to drag itself out of the river. Putting the pail down, she went to their help.

“Are you alright? What happened?”, she asked, worried.

The stranger called out, and she grabbed onto their arm to help them fully get their body back on solid ground. They coughed out some water, and said something unclear, looking up at her.

This man had eyes like liquid gold, and hair like dark palm wood. She remembered him visiting the Temple the other day, and had wondered where people with such shiny eyes could come from. What was he still doing here?

“Are you alright?”, she repeated.

He blinked, and said something she didn't understand. She's never heard that language before, and yet she's seen her lot of foreigners in her life. Perhaps he was more foreign than what she knew 'foreign' to be.

He coughed out some water again, and she offered him some help standing up. He's likely slipped on wet moss while trying to drink from the river. He really wasn't from here, was he? Even children knew to be wary of slippery river benches.

“Come. I know where you can get dry.”

He didn't understand, so she gestured with her hand for him to follow her. Which he eventually did, still with that lost expression that endeared her for a moment. Making sure he was behind her, she led the way back to the village, so he could get some fire to dry with.

She only remembered the water pail way too late into the evening, but even the scolding couldn't stop her daydreaming.

~~~~~

Athanaos loved telling stories. That was how things were, and how he was. Whenever there was a crowd, there was a tale. Any occasion to have people listen was a good occasion, and he never failed to grab his chance to shine and dazzle an audience. Anything was worth telling: his journeys, the places he's seen, the people he's met. There was always someone it could impress and inspire, and it made for great times.

Sadly, he found no such luck there. The audience was present, indeed; but they spoke a language he only knew some specific words of. Needless to say, none of these people have ever heard the ones he was fluent enough in, and this made more than once for awkward encounters. Trying to explain himself with gestures was very complicated, and he wasn't very good of an artist to try and draw what he wanted to say.

And of course, for an extrovert like himself, it was a horrible loneliness to live through. He wished he could at least have someone to talk to, so he wouldn't feel so alone in his shipwrecked solitude.

He tightened his cloak a little more around his shoulder, to shield himself from the breeze coming his way. Sighing his heart out, he started walking on a path at random, following whatever direction his feet felt like going onto. He had nothing to do, nowhere to go, after all. While he _could_ start walking the country until he'd find a European settlement of any kind, or even someone who could speak the same language as him, he was tired and mentally exhausted from his journey. And it was best he stayed out of the way of wherever the Order could find him again. All of this combined didn't make for the best perspective ever.

Without knowing why, he started humming.

It wasn't meant to be anything more than a little background noise, at first. But as the wind slowly rose and drowned out his mouth, and since no one was around anyway, he decided to add some words.

_“Shine, while you live, and have no grief at all… For life is not eternal, and Time demands his due.”_

It was a little ballad he's made up, from a strange poem he's once found while exploring ancient ruins. The way it had been written had him jokingly suggest it could be a song, and the idea simply stuck on since. He's even made a melody to sing it with, even though it was something he mostly kept to himself. He didn't have the best singing voice, he thought.

_”Shine, and don't regret, for life must carry on… Have no fear for the future, for I will think of you.”_

The road ahead was desert, leading the way out of the village. If he followed it, he could easily get anywhere he wanted. He knew the old saying that all roads lead to Mu, and in a sense this was true. But even if he were to find somewhere else to go, what would it lead him to? What good would it bring him? He would only run into his brothers of the Order, and everything would start over again ad infinitum. And he didn't want to face such a prospect.

_”Shine, and please remember, you'll never be alone… My time here might be over, but hope will linger through.”_

He sat down on a rock, finding nothing else to do besides thinking. He was stranded, definitely stranded here; not because he couldn't physically move, but because he had no choice in the matter. And it made him feel strange.

_”Shine, my dearest darling, do not await me there… Keep on living for me, and I will wait for you.”_

He ended his little ballad on a sighed note, staring at the sunlit horizon ahead of him. It was quite a pretty sight, he had to admit. It perhaps wasn't on par with everything he's seen in his life, but it didn't have to. It was nice just the way it was, and he wouldn't complain.

It could be worse, after all. He could have been made prisoner, or have drowned into the sea. He could have been betrayed before his time, or sent off to have his Atlantean blood be processed into red orichalcum. It could be worse in so many ways, and he was grateful it wasn't the case.

The hush of voices nearby caught his attention. He turned his head, and saw a small group of young women looking at him. They had familiar light blue robes and were carrying firewood in their arms.

When he noticed them, they giggled and headed off onto the path, towards the village. Yet one of them had not taken her eyes off him yet.

Silvery eyes, pale like the moon. When he recognized her, he quickly stood up, arm forward.

“Wait!”

She was already about to leave, likely scared by his sudden reaction, but he was faster. He touched to her arm, making sure not to startle her even more, and she looked at him again.

“I...”

He didn't really know what to say, or why he had done this at all. She wouldn't understand anyway, would she? Still, what was on his heart was to be spoken out.

“I wanted to say...thank you. For helping me, yesterday. With the river.”

He was speaking slowly, yet she remained confused by his words. Of course. What else was he expecting? He knew it was useless, but part of him still hoped.

He put a hand on his heart, and slowly extended it to her. He bowed his head, hoping his posture had enough universality to it for her to understand.

“Thank you.”

When he glanced up again, she still had her brows quirked. He started to feel like he was doing it wrong; but then, she touched to her own chest, and reached forward just like he did.

"...thank you?”

Her voice was a little hesitant, and her accent definitely off. But in that moment, Athanaos didn't care. He couldn't help a smile from forming, because even though the language barrier stood still and unmoving between them, someone was going out of their way to attempt to talk to him. It was nothing, really, but it made him feel a little better already.

“Thank you.”, he repeated slowly.

While she didn't fully understand, she was trying, and it was all that mattered. It has been so long since he had anyone to talk to, so even the smallest and most one-sided of conversations was doing him good.

But that wasn't really fair, he thought. It wasn't fair that he could understand and she couldn't. She seemed like a nice person, and in no way he would keep her to a stance of confused listener. Plus, it wasn't like he knew anyone else in the village, anyway.

He gestured to the small fagot of branches she was carrying under her arm. Puzzled, she handed it over to him, albeit with some reticence. He took it in hand, and repeated his gratitude gesture again, hoping to explain the concept of it.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes went from her face to his hand, to the firewood, and to his hand again. A moment later, she blinked with realization, and chuckled. He couldn't help smiling as well, for he sure must be looking rather stupid right now.

She gestured to the fagot, and he handed it back to her. She held it, and made that chest-giving hand again, speaking slowly.

“ _Agradiseyki._ ”

He tried to repeat that word, but his pronunciation was likely very off, for all he got from her was an amused breath. It made him feel rather bad about himself, which he used to make an expression of self-depreciating humor. But she didn't stop there, and repeated slowlier, until he got it right. Well, how about that? He's learned a new word today! That gave him a nice little mood boost.

But once that little teaching exchange was done, the awkwardness of communication impossibility returned to stick its nose between the two of them. She glanced aside, looked to the road to the village, then to him. She likely had duties to attend to, and he felt selfish for holding her back. So he simply smiled, and gestured for her to carry on with her tasks.

“I hope I will see you again.”, he said.

She replied something in a similar tone. Then, after a second of awkward linger, she headed back to the temple.

That little smile didn't leave Athanaos's mouth as he resumed walking, unlike the notes of his ballad.

~~~~~

The first times Killa had met with that stranger, it had been out of sheer coincidence. But past their last encounter, where she allowed herself to enter his world if only to learn a single word of his foreign speech, she wouldn't be able to say it was all coincidence anymore.

She's never seen someone like him. Someone so different from what she was used to, even from people of other countries. And she would be wrong to claim it didn't fascinate her to some level. This man had odd mannerisms, spoke words no one could understand, and his looks were truly intriguing. The memory of his golden eyes kept questioning her throughout her day, like a riddle that needed an answer and nagged at her until she'd pay attention to it. And even though she had duties and roles to attend to and respect, it stayed there somewhere in the back of her mind.

During her free time, she'd innocently wander the village, under the pretext of picking herbs or seeing some sights she was already familiar with. Her eyes were discretely scouring around, hoping to catch a glimpse of red cloaks or brown hair somewhere to the side. She had, of course, to be as sly as possible as to avoid any sort of remark from the other maidens; her curiosity needn't get the upper hand of her. That was all that it was: curiosity, nothing more.

The next time she saw him was a sunny morning, somewhere on the trail of stones that led to the mountain. She was looking for medicinal flowers by the rocks, when she saw him standing on the heavy stone steps, eyes turned to the horizon. She did her best to keep silent and still, watching him as he was letting the wind breeze through his hair. He hadn't shaven in a while, it seemed, for his cheeks were stubbly; but it gave him a sort of wild look that she couldn't help appreciating.

For a minute, nothing happened. He stayed there, unmoving, as if waiting for something. She wondered what he could be doing, and why. And just was she was about to leave, that's when he moved at last; he leaned forward, grabbed onto the stone steps, and thrust on his legs in a fancy handstand. Her eyes widened at that sight, but not for long; he fell down after a second, with a grunt of pain when his back hit the ground.

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her.

He perked up, looking at her as if he's just noticed her. She covered her mouth and tried to quiet down, but her smile kept betraying her. She couldn't help herself, it was just so funny to see! Such a thick and burly man, in such a ridiculous position! Oh, she felt cruel, she felt cruel!

The man stood up, dusting his clothes off with a slight grin. He was chuckling as well, saying something as he pointed to her. And while she didn't understand, she got the likely implications of it.

She scoffed, and walked to the stone he had been standing on. Then, looking at him with smug eyes, she got down and performed a perfect handstand, to shut him up. And it worked! His shocked face was priceless, as she carefully stepped down the stone stairs on her hands. It's just a little thing she's practiced on her own, and now it was paying off. Her dress didn't even slip as she made her way to solid ground again, and landed on her feet in a skilled forward pirouette. She then looked at him with the same grin he's worn a moment ago, arms crossed, superiority proved. Again, his face was worth a thousand treasures.

He whistled a note, hands clapping in admiration. She bowed like a dancer after a performance, very gracefully, and heard him chuckle. He glanced around, then pointed to a tree in the distance, putting his hands forward and down. His finger went between the two of them, and that's how she understood he wanted a race. And he would have it! In no way would she deny a challenge.

They started from the point where stone steps met bare earth. In no time, she was gone on her hands again, legs perfectly balanced. He tried to follow, but was nowhere near as practiced as she was, and his steps were wobbly at best. She went slow and careful, almost to taunt him, but mostly to give him a chance. As expected, he tripped down, and she stood there waiting for him. His tone was that of grumpy complaint, and it only made her chuckle some more.

“Come on, get up! I know you can do it.”, she encouraged.

He tried to get back on his hands, rubbing his back where it hit the ground. For a moment, she thought he'd hurt himself, and crouched by him to check he was alright. That's when he grinned at her, and resumed hand-walking ahead of her.

“Oh, that's cheating!”

She wouldn't let him win with such a foul strategy! Quickly, she followed him, intent on winning this race. If he wanted to make it serious, she would do it seriously, then! She got to his level quickly, glaring at him, but in her haste it was her turn to trip on her hands and fall down. Oof, it hurt.

Even though this guy was a cheat, he knew what fair-play was about. This time, it was his turn to stop and help, offering her an arm which she gladly accepted. What a strong grip! Any further and he was lifting her into the air.

“Thanks.”, she said, dusting dirt off her dress. “ _Ef...charistó._ ”

He smiled, seemingly happy to hear his native language. Before letting go of her hand, he lightly tugged on it, to lead her onto the path towards the tree. This time, on his feet; she happily complied.

They simply walked to the finish line, calmly and without anyone falling on their butt. It was a nice change of pace that'd save them from getting any more dust and soil on their clothes. And to be honest, she liked it better this way.

They crossed the line together, and looked at each other. This man was a bit of a show-off, but he matched her competitive spirit. After years of being the best, this little race was a moment she needed. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to get to know him, she thought? He looked like he was lonely. And if he didn't speak any Quechua, he would have trouble getting around.

Slowly, she put a hand on her chest.

“My name is Killa.”

She spoke it slowly, so he could understand. He looked at her for a moment, taking it in. And then, he put a hand on his chest as well.

“My name...Athanaos.”

What a strange name! She's never heard one like that before.

“Athanaos.”, she repeated, taking her time to feel the syllables in her mouth.

He nodded happily. She smiled, and greeted him with her hand.

“It is nice to meet you, Athanaos.”

“It is...nice meet you, Killa.”

He was a bit awkward at it, but he was learning. That gave her more than one idea on how to spend a bit more time with this odd foreigner, and perhaps to get to know his world.

~~~~~

The maiden reached into her basket again, and this time pulled out a long cob of small, golden grains like he's seen growing on these tall plants.

“ _Sara._ ”, she said clearly, handing it out to him.

He took it in hand, looked it over. He's never seen one of these cooked, so the texture was foreign to him. But it smelled nice.

“ _Sara._ ”, he repeated. “Corn.”

She smiled, nodding.

“You're doing good.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled in turn, before biting into it. And almost spitting it out a second later, for his teeth had fallen on the hard core. His cluelessness made Killa giggle.

“Do not eat plant.”, she said in simple words. “Eat seeds. Look.”

And she ate a bite of her own cob, showing him how to properly taste the grainy delicacy. Indeed, it was much better this way, and he smiled at his own goofiness. He liked how it made her laugh, how it kept a little corner smile on her face, but that was his little secret that he wouldn't admit to anyone, especially not her.

“It is good.”, he declared after a couple more bites.

In all honesty, the food of this land was very tasty. For a couple weeks now, she has been bringing him something new, as to teach him as many words as possible. It was very kind of her to do this for a lost man like him, and it only made him feel twice as better. In return, he did his best to learn all words he could, so he could have a concrete conversation with her. For she likely had many interesting things to say, he could just feel it.

When he was on his own, he'd listen to the locals, see what words and sentences were coming up the most. And when he was with her, after she was done with her daily duties, he'd ask her and she'd try to explain. He'd point at things, and she'd name them; he'd draw figures in the sand or with pebbles, and she'd try to guess from his dubious artistic talent what he meant. It wasn't the best method ever, but it worked for them; in about two weeks, he's learned the names of most plants, animals, food items and tools he could find in and around the village. He knew how to greet someone, introduce himself, how basic politeness worked as well as a couple utility questions. And knowing how he used to not know a single helpful word of the land he ended in, it was quite a tremendous progress!

He did however feel bad, for he had nothing to offer to her in return. He's thought of teaching her another language as well, but he knew of no way for her to ever have a conversation with another speaker of Greek, Latin, Spanish, French or Chinese, so he quickly forgot it. And he had nothing of material value to give her, which she would refuse anyway for she was naturally humble. So the one logical conclusion he's come to was that he should make this moment of her day a time worth spending. And the best way he knew to achieve that, was to get a good laugh out of her.

While they were eating, he slowly picked a twig off the ground, and patted her shoulder to get her attention. When he was sure he got it, he put the twig on his nose and balanced it like a seal, succeeding in getting it to balance. She blinked in confusion, a comical puzzled expression that made him smile. But that's when the twig chose to fall of his nose; quickly, she reached for it and grabbed it before it touched the ground.

“Here. You lost something.”

And she put the twig in his pocket, patting it. That's about when he lost it, and burst in small fits of laughter.

He didn't even know why! There was something about her that made her timing just right, and he loved it. If that were to continue, none of his clowning would ever match the sheer comedy of Killa's every little funny action. And to be fair, he wasn't opposed to it, for she seemed to like making him laugh as well. It wasn't even that hard of a task.

She smiled, picking up another twig of similar shape. Athanaos took out his own to compare them; and before they knew it, the two of them had broken into a tiny swordfight. For no reason other than they felt like being silly, they started swinging their 'blades' together like expert fencers in a tournament. And it was silly indeed! But they were both having a lot of fun with it, and soon it made them laugh again. Sometimes, things didn't have to make sense at all to be amusing, and these two both knew it.

“Alright, alright.”, she said after a moment of dueling. “Put down the sword. Eat.”

“I eat.”, he agreed, returning to his meal of corn and vegetable soup.

And it was a very tasty meal. He needed to learn how to cook it, if only to make his life more colorful and enjoyable. Perhaps she could teach him if he asked nicely?

From the corner of her eye, he saw her practice small fencing moves with her twig sword.

~~~~~

“Now, push on your arm. Right like this.”

Killa followed his advice, and repeated the gesture, poking into the big leaf in front of her.

“Like this?”

“Like this. Don't be afraid.”

She nodded, and did it again. This time the sword went a bit straighter, with less hesitation.

“That's it, you're doing great.”, Athanaos assured. “Don't forget. Keep your legs wide. Fold on your knees.”

“I can't exactly spread them wider.”

She performed the thrust again, this time with a swiping motion added to it; a large tear cut into the tree leaf, almost slicing it in half.

“You're doing well. Now return to your starting position.”

She did so, with a bit of hesitation as to where she was supposed to put her feet, again. Luckily it wasn't too difficult to learn, with such a good teacher to help her.

In return for her linguistic help, Athanaos had wanted to teach her how to fight with a sword, following their little stickfight the other day. She didn't see the use of it, but he assured it could always come in handy. Should something happen, she had to be able to defend herself and her friends. And while she still considered swords to be a strange weapon, she accepted his lessons anyway, for it gave her another insight into Athanaos's world.

A world she was slowly discovering. He didn't often speak of his origins, but she knew he had traveled many lands and seen many seas and oceans, some of which she didn't even know existed. She loved the way his eyes would sparkle when she asked him to tell her more about it, and the way his voice became all excited when he did so. He would try to build his story with what words he knew, and obviously struggle with it, for he had so many things to say, so much to tell. And she loved to listen to these tales from another world.

She thrust her sword again, and sliced the leaf almost clean. He applauded, picking it up and looking at the cutting marks.

“You're good!”

“Thank you.”, she bowed. “I am learning from the best, after all.”

He smiled, and took the sword back in hand for a moment, trading it for the cut leaf. On his signal, she threw it into the air, and he sliced it in half with a swift move. What a fancy way to make tree salad! She clapped her hands with a cry of admiration, to flatter him some.

“Now I know what to do, if a tree ever attacks me.”

He snorted at that comment, leaning on his sword like a cane.

“If anything, you have me to defend you.”

“Oh, really?”, she smirked, raising a brow. “Can you even defend me from...piranhas?”

She fetched a harmless fish from their lunch basket, and wriggled it in front of him. He gasped in mimicked terror, and grabbed his sword.

“Fear not, fair maiden! I will save you from the evil fish!”

And he poked at it with the tip of his blade, in a way contrasting only too much with his wannabe knight attitude, all his heroism traded away for something more clownish. And as expected, it got a solid laugh out of her.

“Oh, my brave knight! Thank you for saving me from that evil, _frightful_ catfish!”

“Always happy to be of help, my revered lady.”

He sheathed his sword, knelt before her, and kissed her hand like a court noble. And from the sheer ridiculousness of this ritual, Killa only ended up laughing even more. It was just too much!

“What...what are you even doing, you fool?”, she breathed out between two fits of laughter.

“This is how we pay respects to a lady in Europe.”

She managed to quell her laughter until it was but snorts that still slipped away from her nose.

“You're not in Europe, silly. Get back up.”

She tugged on his arm until he got on his feet again. Then, she put both her hands on her chest, and offered them to him with a bowed head.

“ _That_ is how you pay respects to a lady here.”

He took her hands with confusion.

“Am I the lady in this case?”

“You never said you weren't.”

She chortled, and he smiled, admitting her right.

“As you wish, then.”

And he offered his hands to her, bowing respectfully. She feigned to be picky at first, and then only accepted his respects.

“You have a lot to learn about our customs.”, she said. “That is, if you intend to stay.”

He looked up at her.

“Well...do you mind teaching me, then?”

That made her smile.

“Of course.”

She let go of his hands, and took the sword from his belt.

“After _you_ finish teaching me sword fighting.”

“With pleasure, revered lady.”

He bowed deeply, and resumed their lesson.

~~~~~

“What is this one called?”

He turned his head to see which one she was pointing to.

“The one with the three aligned stars? This one, we call Orion. He was a legendary hunter who got killed by a scorpion sent by the gods.”

“A hunter? How exotic.”

“Why so? What do your people call it?”

“The Turtle constellation.”

“A turtle? Where do you see a turtle?”

“Right here!”

And she proceeded to point out the shell, the legs and the head of the animal. Athanaos squinted and tilted his head, trying to see it.

“I...guess if you look at it with this angle, it looks like a turtle?”

“It _is_ a turtle.”

“For you perhaps. But I see the hunter's bow and mace, right here.”

She rolled her eyes, but did attempt anyway to see what he was pointing at.

Someone once told Athanaos that if he understood a culture, he'd understand its people. That saying proved to be true, for during his travels he had learned a lot about different cultures and how they all were unique in their own rights, what they had that was new and exciting. And yet, while he understood the differences they had with his own knowledge and values, he still couldn't help there to be some clash every now and then. This night was but one of the many examples of it. He's offered Killa to go up the hill with him and watch the stars, for tonight would be a very clear night, and she accepted to sneak out of the temple to join him up there. And now that they were here, half-laying in the grass under the warm summer air, they have found no better game than to compare their respective names for Southern constellations.

“What about this one? The slithery one.”

Athanaos tried to see it more clearly, sitting up.

“From here, I might say...the Scorpion, perhaps?”

“The scorp- that's a snake! Where do you see a scorpion?”

“Look! You have the stinger, and the claws right near. I know you need to really squint to see it, but there it is!”

“You're just being ridiculous now.”

“But that's true! There's a scorpion right here!”

“And there will be a scorpion in your mouth in less than five seconds if you don't admit I'm right.”

He scoffed at that, throwing her a defying glare.

“You wouldn't.”

She grinned. And before he could do anything, she had pinned him down into the grass.

“Watch out!”, she warned, sitting on his chest. “I have a very dangerous scorpion right here, and I'm putting it in your mouth! Oh no, it's escaped! It's climbing up your body!”

And she started tickling his sides, to mimic the frantic walk of a scorpion. Athanaos laughed out, trying to push her off, but she had a solid hold on him.

“The agony!”, he laughed. “The pain, the suffering! Someone achieve me!”

“You will not get that mercy, you false reader of stars! You have angered the god of the Sky!”

She slipped her fingers under his armpits, and tickled away until the poor man was squirming and crying in laughter.

“Stop it! Stop it, please, I surrender! I call upon my rights to a fair trial!”

“Oh, so you do now? Very well, I will be kind.”

She withdrew her hands, but kept him pinned down.

“I might not execute you. Not today, at least.”

Athanaos breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“Thank the stars.”

And then, he smugly grinned.

“Especially the great scorpion in the sky.”

“Oh, now you're asking for it!”

And she resumed tickling. He barely made efforts to squirm away, this time; instead, he tried to get a hold of her, and tickle her in return. Needless to say, she was much more sensitive than he was, and it was so amusing to see her writhe and wriggle like a worm. This quickly led into a weird battle of pounces, pinnings and tickly hands, punctuated with a lot of rolling around, that got the both of them soon covered in grass and panting exhausted breaths.

It lasted for a long time. When they stopped, caught by the limits of their tired lungs, they realized just what they were doing and slowly sat up, scooting away from one another. This was no way to behave! They tried to put themselves in order, to brush off the grass in their hair and ease their sweaty, flushed skin.

But despite that, they still had some laughter left in their chests, breathing it out in small fits. They glanced at one another, and their eyes quickly darted away again.

“Let's...agree that it's both a snake and a scorpion?”, he offered after a moment of awkward silence.

She nodded quickly.

“We'd call it a...a snakepion? _Katasira_?”

“That's a good idea.”

He smiled, a little shyly. And with just as much fluster, she returned that smile.

~~~~~

“You seem to be distracted, Killa. What is the matter?”

Sumailla's little voice was filled with concern, as she gently touched to her friend's arm. She was a short young girl all in excitement and happiness, with curled hair that made her look like an adorable baby alpaca.

“Could it be you have caught some fever? You keep glancing about.”

“A...fever?”, she asked, confused. “No, not that I know of...I'm fine, I assure you. I just have some...things on my mind.”

“I worry about the nature of these things.”

Killa said nothing, dipping the cloth in the water again to rinse it.

“You know I worry for you.”

“On what grounds, may I ask?”

“On the grounds that I am your self-appointed little sister, and worrying is what little sisters do.”

Killa snorted a little, admiring her “sister's” devotion.

“Well, as your elder sister, I assure you there is nothing for you to worry about. I'm fine, I swear.”

“If you say so.”

They said nothing else for a moment, simply scrubbing away the laundry. That is, until Sumailla spoke in her high-pitched voice.

“Hey, isn't that the handsome stranger over there?”

“Where?!”

Killa perked up at an incredible speed, before realizing the stupidity of such a gesture. Sumailla laughed at her reaction.

“I do see what kind of things you are thinking about!”

“Shut it.”, she muttered, flustered at herself. “The last thing I want is for rumors to spread. There is nothing between us.”

"...yet.”

“There are no 'yet's either. There is nothing, that is all.”

She rinsed the cloth vigorously, as if it would ease a feeling within her. Sumailla wondered what such a behavior meant.

“You know that...if you wish to pursue this relationship, you will have to leave the service of the Sun God.”

“I do not wish to!”, she insisted with exasperation. “My duty comes before everything. Before my life if it comes to it.”

Then, more quietly:

“I have accepted it when I joined the Temple.”

Sumailla honestly felt sorry for her friend, and that she couldn't do anything about it. It was painful to imagine such a beautiful love story be unable to bloom, and wilt before it even started. Who knew what it could have led to? Who knew what Killa was renouncing to by deciding not to let her obvious feelings come to fruition?

“But you can be friends. Nothing's stopping you, right?”

That got her to ponder for a moment.

“I suppose...”

She contemplated the seams of a robe thoughtfully as she washed it.

“I have nothing to lose, after all. Why not?”

“That's the spirit!”

Sumailla patter her friend's shoulder, and carried her laundry basket back inside. Leaving Killa outside and to her many thoughts.

~~~~~

Athanaos wasn't very sure of why he had started picking flowers. But it felt like the right thing to do.

He already had a lovely little bouquet of pink flowers in hand, and was gathering some more from a bush. He didn't have anything in mind, he just thought it would make for a lovely gift. An expression of his gratitude for the one person that has been nice and kind to him since his arrival.

She would come out soon for a walk, he knew it. The sun was starting to come down, and it wasn't the first time they've met in this lovely area where flowers were lush and plenty. And the thought of seeing her again made his stomach queasy, but in a good way. He wasn't sure of why, to be honest. But he didn't really ask himself why. It felt natural.

He sat on a flat rock, and hummed to himself as he waited. Caressing the petals of the flowers, enjoying the rustle of the leaves in the breeze. He closed his eyes, listened to that gentle sound, letting random syllables out of his lips. The rustle grew some more, although the wind hadn't picked up; he opened his eyes, and saw someone coming. And when she arrived, his face lit up with a smile.

“Good afternoon, my lady.”

Athanaos offered the bouquet, trying to remain casual. She looked at it with a quirked brow.

"...that's very nice of you, but...you know these are poisonous, right?”

Athanaos dropped the bouquet, trying to remain casual.

"...I didn't until now.”

Killa snorted, shaking her head.

“Come this way, young herbalist. Let's wash your hands before you put them to your mouth.”

She held his arm, and led him to the stream nearby. Despite his controlled demeanor, Athanaos looked rather pale.

“Do I risk anything?”

“As long as you haven't eaten any, you'll be fine. I hope you haven't touched to your eyes or mouth?”

“No, I didn't. And I’m glad about it.”

Once he had some water on hand, he happily scrubbed his own with frenzy, not too pleased with the idea of being poisoned by his own stupidity. That made Killa smile for some reason, as she watched him.

“I appreciate the attention behind your gesture. But next time, do not touch plants you don't know, alright?”

“I'll remember that, don't worry.”

He dried his hands in a fold of his cloak.

“That's a bit sad...I really wanted to offer you something nice. Something you could have with you.”

“You have no need to. Your generosity alone is a noble sentiment.”

“Not even a flower bouquet?”

She feigned to think about it.

“A small one, then. I would rather like there to still be flowers outside for others to enjoy.”

“Then...would you like we enjoy flowers together?”

That question seemed to bring some pink to her cheeks. She glanced away for a moment, before nodding.

“Yes, we could do this.”

He smiled, and offered his hand. She hesitated for a time, and eventually accepted to hold it. His fingers delicately curled around hers, a solid and warm grip that made her chest beat just a tad faster. And he seemed to notice it.

“Is...is holding hands too much?”, he asked, with the voice of a child who has been caught doing something wrong.

Again, Killa seemed to think. He wondered what she could he pondering on, what she could hide behind her slight frown. What thoughts were crossing her mind, behind her dazzling silvery eyes.

"...no.”, she eventually said. “It's alright.”

And she returned his smile.

They stood up from the riverbank, and walked back to the flowery bushes. She would do good to teach him which ones could be touched and which ones would kill him if he ever tried to pick them. Or perhaps it would be a moment of silence, of contemplation of these colorful summer blossoms, during which they wouldn't need to share any words. They would just sit there in the grass, watching the slow dance of petals in the wind, the flight of birds from one tree to the other, the clumsy dance of insects between corollas, all under the warm air of this sunny day. No matter what direction their afternoon would go, he would appreciate it all the same.

Even long after they walked away from the river, she didn't let go of his hand.

~~~~~

“What is it you're doing?”

Killa chuckled at that question.

“Have you never seen a _siku_ before?”

“Well, right now I'm seeing one.”

He watched her fingers as they finished tying the pieces of reed together with colorful string. She readjusted their position, making sure they were properly aligned.

“Do you have an idea of what it's used for?”, she asked teasingly.

“Hmm...is it a very thick comb?”

That made her snort.

“Do you see me combing my hair with this?”

“Why, ladies will comb their hair with anything if they get the chance.”

She bopped him in the nose, to what he replied by pretending to die of sudden agony.

“But I forgive you. For it is not made to be gazed at and admired.”

“Even though you made it very pretty?”

“The real beauty of it does not lie in sight.”

He quirked his brow at that cryptic saying. She tied the string in a tight knot and cut the loose ends to a better size, taking a second to admire her work despite what she just said.

“Well it does look pretty.”, he said.

“It does.”

She smiled at him.

“But wait until you hear it.”

She put it to her mouth, and gently blew in. And to Athanaos's surprise, the pipes started playing music.

It was a slow, high-pitched sound like that of a wooden flute, but with something more enchanting and exotic to it. He closed his eyes, letting out a pleased breath, as he listened to the sweet melody of reeds and wind. It was a peaceful song, one that brought her memories of home, of the heights of the mountain, of her childhood. As she played, she remembered the soothing music her mother would play for her, the songs they sang together. She's the one who showed her how to cut reeds and tie them to form a little flute, an art she carried on with reverence. And it was something so intimate, so personal to her, that playing for an audience would always make her feel nervous.

However, she found no feeling of the sort with Athanaos listening. He was peaceful and quiet, his eyes closed and his head in his hands, laying down in the grass like a resting feline as she played and entertained him with this melody from her heart. It was but a short tune, and in no way did her skills match those of an expert siku player, but this man didn't seem to mind at all or know better. And when the song came to an end, he opened his eyes again, and applauded her with a smile.

“It was beautiful! I loved it.”

She felt a bit flustered, but honestly flattered.

“It was nothing, really.”

“Don't say that. It was great! Please, can you play it again?”

“Why, alright...”

She wore a slight cunning grin.

“But you have to sing with me, this time.”

That seemed to surprise him.

“To sing? Well...alright, then. What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything you'd like. I'm sure you'll find the words.”

He smiled, and sat up next to her.

“Bring it on.”

She happily obliged.

This time, her tune was a little more certain, more confident. He listened to the music of the reeds for a time, to get acquainted with the measures of her music. And when he found the right tempo, he started singing along the melody, in his native language.

She didn't understand what he was singing, but his voice sounded absolutely delightful. It was a treasure to her ears, and it did wonders to her soul. Of course, it wasn't perfect either, and he had hesitations as for which words to use and how to time syllables; but she could overlook these details. Wasn't it beautiful how they managed to create such lovely music together? She had never paired with anyone outside of ceremonial settings, which were rehearsed and prepared. For the two of them to be in such good harmony despite it being their first try really struck a chord within her.

The music slowed down, and eventually stopped. She opened her eyes again, not realizing she had closed them, and looked at him. He was smiling in a slightly flustered manner.

“It was beautiful.”, she said quietly. “You have a beautiful voice.”

He looked away, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Please, it's...it's nothing.”

“It's true.”

He chuckled, his cheeks blushing faintly.

“You should sing more often.”, she offered. “Even if I don't understand your words, I would love to hear them.”

“That's too kind of you.”

He smiled at her again.

“Perhaps I could teach you the lyrics? We could sing together.”

“Together? I mean...I don't have nearly as good as a voice as you do.”

“But I would love to hear it.”

Very gently, his hand laid on hers.

“I assure you. I would love to hear you sing.”

The touch was gentle, very shy. And yet it flustered her, making her heart thump in her chest. She looked away at first, not knowing what to make of it. Athanaos's hand was very warm, warmer than anything she's ever known, like a gentle ray of sunlight caressing her fingers. Perhaps this is what soothed her, and made her not draw away.

“I'm just...I'm a bit shy about singing.”

“Then...I could teach you? I'm not an expert either, but I know some things.”

“You're being too nice with me.”, she chuckled.

Slowly, she let her fingers wrap around his'.

“Shall we continue?”, she asked, taking her siku in hand again.

“Always, my lady.”

They breathed in. She played, he sang, and the both of them experienced something new today.

~~~~~

“Athanaos, no.”

“Athanaos _yes_.”

He glared at the man in front of him, a tough and burly Inca warrior who bore visible scars from previous battles. Around them, a small crowd of party-goers had gathered, all looking quite excited by what was happening. And among them was a very tired vestal, who had tried to stop Athanaos for so long that she was getting bored of it.

“I tell you.”, she insisted. “ _Chicha_ is not like your European drinks. It is too strong for you, and you cannot drink a whole jug of it.”

“Well what tells you so? We're here to see about that.”

He sent more eye daggers at the guy facing him.

“You should listen to her, foreigner.”, the latter warned. “Or you'll be too queasy to keep rambling.”

“That's what you think.”

The crowd parted to let pass a young boy, who carried under his arms two large jugs of golden, sweet juice that smelled of maize and alcohol. There ought to be at least fifteen pints of chicha in each of these! He put them on the table, where they made quite a noise landing, and everyone around cheered.

“Athanaos.”, Killa insisted. “Believe me, no one can drink that much without bursting. And even the celebration circumstances will not help you.”

“But I have been challenged! And you know I _never_ turn down a challenge.”

He grabbed the jug in his arms, and the tough warrior did the same. They tipped some on the ground first, as per tradition, still staring at each other. And then, under the cheers of the crowd, they started drinking.

“I'm not encouraging this.”, Killa sighed, before walking away from this freak show.

Athanaos was a tough guy. His opponent might be tougher, but he was a sailor! He's had his share of mead and ale, during lonely nights on ships! A bit of corn beer wouldn't scare him. He had been challenged, and he would win this duel that only a bunch of drunken minds could come up with. This was quite a way to amuse the crowds during harvest celebrations! Seriously, what was Killa worrying about?

As more and more pints got washed down between hasted breaths, however, he started to think that maaaaaybe she wasn't worrying for nothing, after all. He had downed way less corn beer than his opponent, who soon had the crowd chanting his name and cheering on him. Needless to say, this didn't look too good.

But he couldn't lose. His honor was at play! Bracing himself as his opponent paused, he quickly swallowed as much as he could, not without a lot of it dribbling from his mouth. He felt his stomach becoming heavier with every gulp, and his head wasn't feeling any better. His gut was crying for mercy, his lungs out of breath; but in a final assault of determination, he finished his drink and let the jar loudly crash on the ground.

There was shock around the crowd, gasps and wide eyes. And then, everyone cheered and applauded. Who's the weakling, now? Who's the puny European? Take that, everyone! His honor was saved!

But the same couldn't be said of his dignity. Feeling the corn beer wanting to leave his body one way or another, he quickly rushed out of there, to go set it free behind some bush in a concerto of throat noises. His victory was very-short lived, it seemed. At least, it was all worth it.

“I hope you enjoyed your victory, oh great chicha lover.”

He raised his head weakly, enough to see Killa's form leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed and expression smug.

“Trust me, the retching is just the beginning. That much alcohol will definitely kill you.”

“Then it will be an honorable death.”

He grinned with triumph, but his pride got thrown out along another gallon of his stomach contents. Killa rolled her eyes, looking away.

“Oh yes.”, she commented. “Very honorable.”

When the noises calmed down, she simply got up.

“I will fetch you some herbs. You will spend a horrible night, believe me.”

“Don't I deserve some consideration? Even your toughest warriors couldn't defeat me in this battle!”

She snorted at that.

“Perhaps. But there are better things to be tough in than...whatever it is you're trying to do.”

However, she flashed him a nice smile.

“But I'll admit I'm impressed. You really don't deny a challenge.”

“I'd do it again, if you asked me. I'm always ready to prove myself.”

She gently shook her head.

“You don't need to prove yourself to me.”

He smiled back at her, feeling his stomach fill up with butterflies. Unless that was the corn beer stirring him up.

“Return to your purging.”, she casually said. “I will get you some water to clean up with. Your clothes will reek of corn for days to come, otherwise.”

He was about to say something, but his mouth got busy again. It would still take about an hour for his stomach to throw up all that beer, and the last remains of his dignity with it.

~~~~~

“Does it fit?”

Killa watched nervously, as he tugged lightly on the tunic to readjust it. His hands ran over the seams, feeling his chest under the thick woven cotton.

“Well...it does!”, he said with some surprise. “Did you make it yourself?”

“It was nothing much.”, she chuckled. “You needed some new clothing anyway.”

He twirled around, watching the bottom flap whoosh around. She frowned, and brought him closer so she could tie a leather belt around his waist.

“The weather can get very cold around here. You have to keep warm.”

She fastened a neat knot on the side, and pat down a couple wrinkles.

“Look at you. You're almost a true Inca, now.”

“This is going a bit fast.”

He chuckled, looking at himself for a moment. Then, gently, he took her in his arms.

“Thank you so much.”, he said softly. “It really means a lot that you're looking out for me.”

The embrace took her by surprise, needless to say. She wasn't too sure of what to do about it, for it wasn't something commonplace. She decided to just let it happen. He must have noticed it, for he let go very shortly after.

“I apologize.”, he quickly said. “Did I do wrong?”

She shook her head.

“You're good. I just didn't expect it.”

“I hope you have nothing against hugs...”

“No, nothing at all. But...hugs are rather kept between parents and children, if you see what I mean?”

He rose his brows.

“Do you never give hugs to your friends, or the people you appreciate?”

“Not...really, no?”

She chuckled a bit, confused.

“Is it something your people do?”

“Well...yes, sometimes.”

They both stood there, a little awkwardly. She knew it was useless to force him to conform to her people's social expectations, that he was too much of a foreigner to ever be one of them. And even though Athanaos wouldn't say it, she knew he missed his home.

Slowly, her arms wrapped around his chest, and she pressed her body to his'. He let out a little surprised gasp, but accepted the gesture and returned it. His embrace had such strength to it! It was like being squeezed between the thick logs that were his arms. And she wasn't sure she liked it, but that's when she heard the faint thumping of his heart in his chest, right against her ear.

She didn't know why she closed her eyes, why she softly sighed out. Her hands settled on his back, and his' gently rubbed to hers, with controlled vigor. He could easily crush a lamb with these hands, she thought. But he was too soft of heart to ever do it. And she felt reassured somehow. She felt...at peace.

“Perhaps you should get hugged more often.”, he offered, his voice echoing in his chest.

She simply nodded, letting her nose dip in the folds of his shirt. It was nice, very nice...perhaps even too nice. Slowly, she renounced to the warmth and pushed away, looking up at him with a smile nonetheless.

"...in occasions, maybe.”, she conceded. “It is hard to resist arms like yours.”

She bopped his nose, and stepped away.

“You will need a warmer hood shall winter come. I will see about getting some wool or hide. I can make you one.”

“What can I do in return for you?”

“Nothing~”, she chided. “Except wearing what I give you.”

“Oh, come on! You're building a power imbalance in our friendship!”

“And with power comes all the favors I can ask of you and that you cannot refuse.”

He pretended to fume at her smug grin, pointing an accusatory finger to the sky.

“This will not stand at all, young lady! I shall have you tried, then hanged and quartered for this felony!”

“Then good luck getting a hold of me. You will die in the mountain cold if I do not hurry up and get some wool.”

“Is this another challenge?”

“Perhaps. I bet I will be done knitting you a dozen warm mantles before you manage to take a single step outside in the harsh, frozen climate of our sooooo non-European lands!”

She took a fake tragic tone to emphase on Athanaos's pretended sadness, before giggling as she walked out of the room. Once she was gone, he simply chuckled, looking at his new tunic once more.

“Wait. She's not going to _really_ knit a dozen mantles, is she?”

The thought took him aback for a moment. And then, the sheer domestic aspect of such a prospect achieved to endear his already tender heart.

“I swear, this girl _really_ is something.”

~~~~~

He kept his eyes on the horizon, his body not moving an inch. Blended in with the shadow of a tree, he was as still as a rock, as if a single twitch of his eyelid would mean certain death. His forehead was beading with nervous sweat, his fingers were gripping on the roots, his eyes were not straying from the ocean ahead of him.

After a time that seemed endless to him, the white sails disappeared from his line of sight, far beyond, where they couldn't see him. Athanaos finally allowed himself to breathe in relief, and to stand from his crouched position. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it, but there was nothing else he could have done besides hiding.

"...are you alright?”, Killa's voice asked, coming from behind him.

He turned around. Seeing the basket in her hands, she's apparently come to bring him some lunch, but had stopped right in her tracks when she saw him hiding like this.

"...I am.”, he assured. “I'm fine.”

“What were you looking at?”

She tried to see, but all that was in front of her was the coast beneath, and the ocean stretching on to the horizon.

“Could it be that foreign ship that passed in the distance?”

He nodded.

“I heard about them. They usually board more south, I wonder what they're doing here. But I doubt they're bringing friendship.”

Athanaos had an idea, of course. He knew that while most prosperous kingdoms were to be found down south, the true treasure happened to be much norther, by the Maya lands. The treasure no one would know where to look for...excepted some people he knew. Some people he had everything to gain by avoiding.

“Let's just say that...we're old acquaintances.”, he simply said.

He sat down with a sigh, legs huddled against his chest. She sat at his side, bringing her little basket over.

“You did look terrified. I assume they're more than just acquaintances, are they not?”

He tried to say otherwise, but found no use in lying, and nodded.

“If they find out I'm here, they might...they might do terrible things. They'll threaten everyone. Including you.”

“As if I would let a bunch of foreigners come to my village and tell me what to do.”

She handed him his share of grilled fish.

“Not to mention I can defend myself. I'm getting good with a sword. I can beat you half of the time.”

“Well, that sure is impressive. But if they are really like I know them, they won't stop at swords. They have terrifying weapons.”

He bit into the fish, munching thoughtfully.

“What kind of weapons?”

“Well...”

He swallowed.

“They have muskets, which shoot metal bullets with the power of fire. And cannons, which can destroy stone walls. They will not hesitate to set fire to any bridge and roof they encounter.”

He glanced at the sea for a moment.

“But their most effective weapon is their cruelty. When they want to be destructive, they are. They spare no one, not even women and children. They take no prisoners and have no respect for what you hold sacred. All they want is gold, and power.”

Killa said nothing, looking down at her food with a slight frown. Clearly this wasn't a very good thing to hear, it seemed. Perhaps he should avoid the topic of death and destruction for the time being. Or forever.

"...are all foreigners like this?”, she asked after a time. “All of them from over the ocean?”

“Well...it's not right to claim that. When you take time to meet people and know their cultures, you can discover many new things, and make friends. But some empires do not care for friends; all they want is to conquer. And sadly, those are the biggest empires in the world. But they're definitely not all like that...I think there's really only Spain and Portugal. And France. And...and Holland, too. And Persia.”

“And...which of these are you?”

He looked at her with a quirked brow.

“What do you mean?”

“You've mentioned many people I don't know. Which of these is yours?”

In all honesty, he had to think this one through.

If he had to pick only one nation as his homeland, which one would it be? His first guess went to Greece, the country he was born in and whose language was his mothertongue. But his upbringing had many influences, through his encounters with other people and cultures. When he came of age, he started traveling, meeting even more people and learning about them. And by the time he's arrived here, his own culture was looking like a patchwork of everything he's learned and assimilated during his twenty-six years of life.

So what remained, in all this broth? He hesitated to say. He did not want to disappoint Killa, even if his answer would have no effect on her. But since he was going to forge himself a new identity altogether, whatever he would say would perhaps forever affect the way people here saw him.

However...there was one origin he hadn't considered. One that was but a footnote in the story of his life. One that was so small in his mind that he could carry it in his hand, between two fingers.

Or around his neck, hanging from a string.

Slowly, he reached into his collar, and pulled out the pendant he carried under his tunic. Like a carefully-concealed treasure, the sun medallion was his prized property, his keepsake. The sign that no matter what, he was destined to be part of something great. A sign that never failed to reassure him.

“My ancestors come from a land named Atlantis.”, he finally said after a time. “It is a continent in the eastern ocean, that has now disappeared under its waters. It used to have secrets to a science beyond anything we can imagine!”

She looked to be quite intrigued by his tale. Eager to tell more, he showed her the pendant.

“This medallion is one of their legacies. An old legend says that one day, an heir of Atlantean descent will be born and bring the sun medallion across the world, to open the doors to the seven mysterious Cities of Gold.”

She opened wide eyes at that name.

“The Cities of Gold? I thought they were a legend.”

“They do exist!”, he assured. “I did some research on it. Extensive research. I do not know of their location, but I know they're real. And they'll be open someday, and their knowledge will restore the brother kingdoms of Mu and Atlantis.”

She didn't look like she believed him.

“And...are you that fabled heir?”

“I wish. But...I heavily doubt so. I know there are details in the legend that don't match up with my life. And the heir must be a young child, which I am way past.”

He shrugged.

“My most likely guess is that it will be one of my descendants, then. With some luck, I'll get to see them accomplish this quest. But...I'm not sure this is what's going to happen.”

He looked up at the sky, with something almost nostalgic in his eye. Killa followed his gaze, staring at clouds above them.

None of them said anything. For a long, long time, there was only silence; until he spoke again, in a soft voice.

“Do you sometimes wonder whether your life is already traced out? Whether or not you truly have a choice in what you're doing?”

“Sometimes. I know our creators watch over us, and guide us through our lives. It makes me feel safe.”

“Even if it stops you from doing anything out of the plan?”

She shrugged.

“When I joined the Temple, I accepted my life would not be as free as I wanted. I would have duties and obligations, and things I couldn't do anymore. But that was a conscious choice.”

“Is that what life is about? To serve our gods and forsake everything else?”

Again, she seemed to be caught in thought, staying silent. Athanaos knew this wasn't maybe the best thing to say to someone who had dedicated their life to worship and devotion, and he felt bad about it.

“I'm sorry. I don't want to imply your choice was wrong. It's...it's your choice, and I respect it.”

“Oh, don't worry. Sometimes I question it too.”

“You do?”

“You said it best yourself. A life of forsaking everything does lead to some...temptations. To envy. Sometimes I wonder if I truly made the right choice in becoming Inti's servant...but when I think it through, I find no solid reason to regret it.”

She smiled at him.

“It may not be the best life. But it is the one I chose to have. It is the one I _want_ to have. I do not have to wonder what I'm going to do with my life, where I will go and why. I have an actual purpose, I get to help people, to befriend other women who made the same choice. And, sure, it's a strict lifestyle, and there's so much to do, and sometimes it's very difficult...but in the end, I don't regret it. And I thank the Father Sun for accepting me as I am and showing me the way to inner peace.”

Through the sheer honesty of her words, she had managed to genuinely get to him, and to strike something in his chest. Her philosophy on life was humble, but it was one he started growing authentic appreciation for. She knew what she had to do and she was doing it, and she wasn't afraid of what tomorrow would bring. Her life was simple, chaste, and perhaps a bit boring too; but most of all, it was _stable_. She had everything already figured out, whereas he was still looking for himself and asking himself way too many questions about his place in the grand scheme of things. And this time, it was his turn to grow envious of it.

“But...don't you get bored sometimes?”, he asked, as if to convince himself she was in the wrong. “Don't you wish you could...go on adventures? See the world? Discover new things?”

“More than once.”

She looked at him.

“But I don't need to go anywhere. Not when you're here to tell me all about the world.”

She smiled, and put her hand over his own. Athanaos felt his cheeks getting heated, as well as something fuzzy and warm blooming open in his guts.

“Come on. Won't you tell me a story?”

He had to take a moment to regain his spirits, dazzled as he was. And he must have looked rather funny, for his expression made her chuckle. Carefully, she reached up, and gently brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes.

“Tell me about Atlantis. You've got my whole attention.”

It took some effort for him to get out of this spell, and to start telling the ancestral tales of what the Atlantean continent was like. She listened carefully, her hand still lingering in his hair. It was a precious touch, like pure Chinese silk grazing his face with its feather-like, chilling caress, forming goosebumps on his skin wherever it hit.

His heart was thumping fast, his stomach felt fuzzy. And where he had pictured dread, nervousness and anxiety to happen, he only felt happiness slowly settling.

~~~~~

Metal clashed against metal, causing both the blade and the staff to vibrate. Before her opponent could react, Killa slipped out of reach and attempted another assault, going at it with more force this time. But Athanaos had seen it coming, and blocked it again, shoving her out of the way and attacking in turn. She easily dodged it, although he almost got her.

She's become quite good at swordfighting, so much she was easily matching him. Since she had no sword, her choice weapon was a thin metal staff she wielded like a monk's fighting stick. And she was fearsome with it! More than once did Athanaos actually fear for his life when she'd rush at him with determination and courage, like nothing could stop her in her attacks. And indeed, with every hit she managed to land, her temerity would only grow in force.

He went for the slash, and she parried it like it couldn't be easier. Their weapons clinged, hit, sent sparks to fly off in the air as they collided and ground against one another, but none of them were about to stop. They both were panting, sweating, their muscles begging for mercy, but the training session had barely reached its best part. Just a little longer, and it would get even more intense.

She deflected his blade, and leaped forward to attempt to bash. Athanaos stepped back, arm raised to shield himself, and panic got a hold of him for a moment. Without thinking, he sliced again in a random direction, as if it would help in any way.

His blade hit something, and Killa dropped her weapon. A second later, she fell on the ground.

Athanaos's heart skipped a bit.

“Oh no!”

He rushed to her side, dropping his blade.

“Killa! Are you alright? Please, answer!”

She managed to get up on her knees, but suddenly winced and pressed a hand to her side. With horror, she saw blood seeping through the cut fabric of her dress.

“We have to get help!”, Athanaos panicked. “Can you get up?”

“I'm fine.”, she assured. “It's just a cut, I swear I'm fine.”

“But you're bleeding!”

He helped her get up, and her muscles ached as she did. She could feel the warmth of blood running against her fingers, and it did make her quite nervous, even though she didn't want to admit it.

“It's just a scratch. I've had worse.”

“It might get infected...”

He picked up his sword, and tore off a piece of his cloak to wrap around her waist. It wasn't a deep cut indeed, but it could lead to complications if not treated.

“There. That will do until we get it cleaned up.”

“I told you, I'm fine.”

She tried to prove it by walking ahead, but winced again and nearly dropped on her knees again. The cut was rather long, after all, dragging from her hip to her lower ribs. If he had been more accurate, Athanaos would likely have severely hurt her.

“No you're not.”, he insisted back. “Here, let me help.”

And before she could say anything, Killa was lifted into the air, and carried in a solid pair of arms.

“Put me down!”, she yelped.

“I'm sorry, but we need to get help fast, and that's the only way we can do it. So hold onto me and make sure to keep your bandage pressed.”

And he made his way down the grassy hill where they were training.

In all honesty, Killa didn't appreciate being carried like a bag of grain. But...after a moment of walking, she had to admit it wasn't bad either. The rocking sensation of his footsteps and the gentle strength of his embrace were making feel so small and secure, almost as if she were a little child again. And while she did protest at first, she very soon quieted down, and rested her head against his chest.

"...you're so strong.”, she said softly after a time of walking.

“Thank you. I don't have much to do, so I train every day.”

“I can see that.”

It felt so odd to have everyone's eyes on her as she was being carried back to the temple. She hated to be the center of attention; she hid her face a little, insisting to be dropped down as soon as possible. He denied her this favor, but eventually had to comply, for they were close anyway.

"...thank you.”, she said once they got there. “I'll be fine, I swear.”

“I know. But...I'm sorry. I should have watched what I was doing, I...I really didn't mean to.”

She smiled at him, patting his arm.

“It was bound to happen. Don't apologize. For all I know, I could easily have bashed your skull.”

He didn't really know how to take that, and she simply chuckled.

“I left my staff up there. Will you be so kind as to fetch it for me?”

“Oh- oh, yes. Of course. Don't worry.”

“You're a kind person.”

She cupped his cheek for a moment, making him flush a little; then headed inside, to let her fellow maidens swarm her in worry and fear.

She couldn't believe it. Her first battle scar! No doubt she would brag about it even long after it was done healing.

~~~~~

When the liquid in the stile reached its boiling point, Athanaos turned the valve and let it slowly drip into the glass bottle. The elixir turned the light of the candle a bright emerald green that reflected on his work surface in pretty circular patterns. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, watching the bottle fill up drop after drop, stretching his tired arms.

A glance outside told him the sun was about to rise. Has he stayed up all night? That's quite unfortunate. He needed to sleep some more, lest he passed out in the middle of the day. But to be fair, he couldn't find easy rest. Not when the past few days have been filled with worry.

He picked up the dried leaves and stems off the table, brushing away plant debris in a vain attempt at cleaning up the mess in his little cabin. A yawn made its way through his mouth, and he didn't even try to hide it. He was tired off his mind, but it was for a good cause, and all good causes deserved their all-nighters.

The elixir had finished bottling. He shut the valve and fumbled to find a cork of the right size, plugging up the little bottle and writing instructions on a label with his neatest handwriting. Then, as sun was still rising, he headed outside and walked to the temple.

The village was waking up, the first people already out and heading for their respective jobs. Mostly to the farms or pastures uphill, some for the fishing boats. And of course, some for the wake of the Sun God.

He stood outside the temple, listening to the chanting that came from there. It was an entrancing, pretty melody that made his chest feel fuzzy with reverence, in a way he wouldn't be able to describe. He didn't know for how long he stood there, just listening to the choir of voices that saluted the idol and prayed for good things to happen, and he would have stood much longer if it wasn't for the sudden touch to his face.

“Athanaos? Are you alright? You've been standing here for a while now.”

He suddenly woke up, shaking his head when Killa's voice came to him.

“I'm...I'm alright, thanks. I'm just a little bit tired.”

He looked at her. When his eyes met her face, his guts got all fuzzy again, endeared at the sight of her familiar traits, for a reason he knew but didn't feel like confronting yet. But then they noticed the bandage tied around her waist, and the lovely fuzz switched to something heavier.

“How's your wound?”

She grimaced a little.

“I have been better. But it's fine. It will heal in a week or so.”

He felt horribly guilty that he had been the one causing her so much pain. How awful of a friend was he? Without a word, he offered her the bottle, and she looked at it with a raised brow.

“Is that for me?”, she asked. “What is it?”

“It's...it's a healing balm. Rub some on your wound whenever it acts up, and the pain will ease. I...I made it myself.”

She blinked slowly.

“Well, that is...that is very kind of you. I don't know what to say.”

He wanted to tell her it was alright, that she didn't have to say anything; but in that moment, his mouth suddenly felt like yawning, and he hastily covered it, just gesturing with his other hand that it was alright. She looked at him strangely.

“Are you tired?”

“No...”, he lied through yawns. “I'm fine. Just...didn't sleep too well that night.”

She looked at him, then at the bottle. And frowned.

“Athanaos. How long into the night have you been practicing alchemy again?”

“What? No, it's not that. It's an easy recipe to follow, I didn't stay up...”

She stared at him, with inquisitive eyes that he felt could pierce through him with moonlight beams if he tried anything.

"...it took me two all-nighters to put it together.”, he admitted.

“Oh, for Inti's sake!”

And she grabbed him by the arm, leading him to the village.

“Hey! What are you doing!?”

“A good night's sleep is the remedy to many ailments and conditions.”, she said calmly. “By depriving your body of its natural rest, you're opening the way to innumerable illnesses and evils.”

They soon reached the little wooden cabin that Athanaos called his home. It was small, not very furnished, and at that time very messy. But she cared not, and entered in to almost throw him on his bed.

“I will _not_ have you suffer for my sake. You will get some sleep, and you will not wake until you are fully rested.”

"...I take you don't appreciate my gift?”

She blinked, and sat on the bed, where he had been put to lay in a strange position.

“Oh, silly Athanaos. I _love_ your gift. It is so thoughtful and kind, and exactly what I needed.”

Her hand gently cupped his cheek, and her voice softened.

“But I cannot make use of it, knowing you went out of your way and tired yourself so much to make it. I refuse to do so at your expense. Please, you have been so good with me, and all I want is to return it.”

“But you're already so good to me.”

His cute little voice achieved to endear her.

“You big softie.”, she chuckled.

Gently, she took the blanket, and draped it over his body, tucking him in nicely.

“I'm giving you the kindness you deserve as a human being. It's nothing to be celebrated for.”

“Do you always give everyone the same kindness?”

She took a moment to think on his words.

“Well...yes, why? Is there something I did wrong?”

“Not at all!”

He had hurried to say that.

“It's just...you've been so kind to me. Like no one has ever been. And...”

He looked up to her. Slowly, his hand found a way to hers.

“And I can't help but feel like I have to return it. So that we can...”

His heart thumped like crazy in his chest, in an erratic dance of excitement. He fumbled on his words for a time, not knowing whether or not he would ever manage to find them.

“What I mean is...”

He was obviously trembling. Why were his hands shaking so much?

“What I mean is...do you want to...to be especially kind to each other?”

She blinked, looking at him questioningly.

“I...I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Athanaos.”, she slowly replied in an apologetic tone.

He wanted to explain. He wanted to reformulate. He wanted to do _anything_ so she could understand what he meant. What he had on his heart.

"...it's nothing.”, he eventually sighed. “Nothing.”

“No. Nothing is ever nothing, you know? There's something you want to say, and I'm here to listen.”

Goodness, this woman was way too kind for him! He doubted anyone in his life, even his former friends of the Order, would have ever exhibited that much as a tiny bit of patience with him and his rambles.

He decided to try again. To compose his thoughts, to sound as ordered as possible. To not screw up a second time.

“Killa.”, he started, slowly. “Since I got here, I...I've never had anyone show me as much kindness, respect and empathy as you did. You helped me, you taught me your language and your customs. You let me into your world. And whatever I do, I...I'll never be able to thank you enough for all you did.”

He saw her eyes widen, her cheeks flushing a warm rose pink. Her fingers twitching in his hand. He knew this topic was a rather uncomfortable one for her, so he made sure to acknowledge it.

“I don't want to make you feel like you have to.”, he quickly said. “Just...think about it. If you ever would like to...”

He glanced away. He was feeling uneasy, and she surely was just as much.

"...but if you don't want to, I'll never bring it up again.”

There was silence for a long, awkwardly long time. He feared he had done something horrible, that their friendship would be damaged forever by his selfish request. That by asking this of her, he had lost every chance of ever knowing her better.

Then her hand moved. Slowly, very slowly, she laid it on his cheek, touching to his faint stubble. Almost caressing it, in her usual soft, endeared way.

“I didn't know you felt that way.”

He blinked, and looked at her. She didn't look angry, but it was hard to know what she was thinking behind her glimmering silver eyes.

"...now you do.”, he answered, as if it were logical.

She chuckled. Her little smile reassured him, but did not quell the trembling of his hands.

Her thumb brushed across his cheek, feeling the early wrinkles that were starting to crease their way into his skin. Her touch was delicate, like the grazing caress of moonlight on his face, and he wanted nothing but to lean into it, to let himself bathe in the kind light of her hand. He closed his eyes, and found relief in the feeling of her fingers, as if it were a lifeline to hold onto with grateful desperation.

That's when she leaned in. He didn't notice it at first, until he felt another touch on his forehead. Gentle, soft, almost motherly. A touch that wasn't that of fingers.

She lingered there for a long, silent moment that he wished would never end. But all good things had to, even those that felt like a fresh breath of life coursing through his whole body. She withdrew herself, and he opened his eyes again. He did not dare to look at her directly, as if she were the manifestation of a goddess, and he feared it would bring some ill onto him if he dared soiling her with as much as his gaze.

"...who knows.”, was all she whispered, before standing back up.

He had expected much worse of an answer from her, to be fair. So that little gleam of hope she was handing him was so much better than what he had ever wished for. Like a treasure, he would hold it in a corner of his heart, to cherish it and let it fill him with happiness.

“Thank you.”, he smiled.

She returned it.

“Now, you must rest. I will come back later in the day, and I don't want to see you out of bed until you've recovered. Can I trust you to do that?”

“Have my entire trust.”

He smiled at her, and turned in bed to rest some more. She walked away, and only when her footsteps disappear did he let his smile fully bloom on his lips.

~~~~~

The balm worked wonders on easing the pain of her wound. By the time the bottle was empty, the scar was almost completely gone, only leaving a clear trace on her skin. All that reminded Killa of this incident were the stitches on her dress where his sword had cut.

She did not resent him for it. It had to happen at some point. And he had worried enough about her, she did not want to make it any worse. She had to ease his mind so that he could find some peace, and stop treating her like she was a fragile clay doll. She knew he cared and that he only wanted her safety, but in all honesty this was a bit irritating after a time. She was a grown woman, for Inti's sake! She could do what she wanted, and no one could stop her. And if she gets hurt, it will be her own fault; yet she knew Athanaos would find some way to take the blame for it anyway. Such was his fashion, wasn't it? It was unnerving, but also endearing in its own way. He really did care about her, in a way no one ever had.

As a temple maiden, she wouldn't have to marry. She wouldn't have to go through the hassle of making herself appear beautiful, of trying to find someone before her prime had passed. She could let herself grow old without worry, let age come grace her traits as she gained not in ugliness, but in wisdom and gentleness. She had accepted she would know nor the joys of marriage, nor the pride of motherhood, but that she would stay away from all the hassles and troubles it brought. In no way would she ever resemble these frivolous young ladies that never had enough cosmetics or jewels to deck themselves with, that tried to get the attention of potential partners through any means. She did not think of herself as beautiful, because she had no need to. She was the way she acted, not the way she appeared, which ensured no one would ever try to come to her and defile her thoughts with proposals of relationships.

And then came Athanaos, who did not care for the customs of this land, and did as he pleased without worrying. And what pleased him was to find beauty in someone like her, enough beauty that his poor heart had actually fallen in love with her. The very word, the very _thought_ of it would send shivers down her spine! How surprised she had been when she learned of what he felt for her! If he wanted to ever surprise her more than that, all of his efforts would be in vain, for nothing could surprise the shock she felt when she learned.

She had known some attempts at being seduced, a couple times in her youth. And since then she had thought of relationships as something to avoid, something her devotion would protect her from. Such has been her stance on it for years, and never it would have changed. So why? Why did she suddenly decide to give him a chance? Oh, how deceitful of her to flash this little bit of hope in front of him, like bait to catch a wild mouse with! Why did she decide to be so cruel, so cunning to him who had been nothing but kind and friendly to her?

Long during that day did she think of it. She didn't know why she came to give him a chance, when she had resolved to not give anyone. Could it be her stance on love had changed at some point? No, she would have known. She was in control of her thoughts, not the other way around! Could it be she had gotten sick somehow? Could it be the balm he had made for her was actually some poison that got a hold of her heart? What was happening to her?

She did not know, and it scared her. She did not want to betray her faith, her role in the busy beehive of the temple, to renounce her vows. She did not want to leave this life she has known since she was a young girl, she did not want to suddenly have to care about all these things she has forsaken and ignored for so long.

She did not want to leap into the unknown.

Was it all that it was, then? Fear of the unknown? Fear of what a relationship would bring her? Or did she hide it under the fear of what her fellow maiden friends would think of her?

The temple she served was in no way a great and powerful one, for the village itself only housed a couple hundred people at best. There were only a dozen young women in its service, and they weren't rich by any means. Their Mamacuna was a kind person who knew better than to lock up the maidens for the rest of their life, and thus let them some freedom to move around; but what would she think shall one of her protégées suddenly start hanging out with a man, in ways no one would take for friendship? And how would it affect her duties, if she had to actively spend time frequenting a lover?

She had no idea. And it scared her out of her mind. So why, then? Why did she give him a chance? Why did she let him have a chance? _What was wrong with her!?_

In times of doubt, where she couldn't even trust her own conscience, she found the easiest solutions to be the best. Late into the evening, where everyone was already gone for the night, she entered the altar room and bowed with deep respect to the golden idol on its stand. She had after all, no better guidance than that of the one whose service she was under.

Softly, so much her whispers could barely be heard, she confided herself. Her worries, her fears, her insecurity about this thorny question. For after all, she was but a mortal woman, subject to the weaknesses of one. And she was deeply sorry for it. She was doing wrong, she was falling victim to some ploy. Yes, that was the solution. It was all a conspiracy to have her fail! The other maidens were jealous of her, and they wanted her to fail in her duty! There was no other logical explanation!!

Oh, who was she kidding? There was no ploy, no secret conspiracy from anyone. It was all her own fault. She's allowed for a moment of recklessness, and it would ripple into danger and risks for the two of them. She would be shunned and sacrificed for failing to her duty, he would be exiled for having defiled her. This was the only way things could end up.

But...what if it wasn't? What if things were to turn out right? What if she could let herself be tempted, let her feelings take root? What if she could give way to this little spark, let it lit a fire? As long as she controlled it, it would bring light and warmth to her life, without cascading into a destructive pyre. That was the word: control. She didn't need to love him; she could content herself with...affection? Yes, affection sounded good. She had to admit she had grown fond of this funny, daring, soft-spoken, warm, confident, charming man… He cared for her, he taught her new things, he let her have a glimpse of the world beyond the hills and the ocean. And since he knew nothing of this world and their customs, he had no care for the things she worried about, and no right to tell her what she could or couldn't do. In what world could a maiden learn to fight with a sword?

In Athanaos's world. A world she knew too little about, a world her curiosity wanted her to explore. A world she realized she wanted to be part of...but a world she was afraid to join. A world that would require her to leave her own, familiar world that she has grown so accustomed to. And that's where the problem found its roots.

So what could she do?

'Who knows', she had said. It had felt logical. It had felt right. And today it still was. This hesitation, this doubt, this possibility that could branch out in so many ways; because no one on this earth could know how this story, their story would end. Was that really all there was to it? To just...wait and see what happens?

Again, this would prove difficult. For she could not stand passively while Athanaos pursued his advances or not. She had to do something, to reply to them somehow. She had to play her part in this relationship, and to choose whether or not it existed at all.

The spark was in her hands, now.

Slowly, she stood from her bowing position, and thought back on it. Back on these moments of doubt, of questioning; but also on these moments of happiness, of amity, of companionship she's lived with him. Would she be able to live without them? Would she handle a life without Athanaos, secluded to the confines of the temple? Should all these little things disappear, would she miss them?

She would. She definitely would. She has come to love these happy times so much, it was madness to live without them now that they were making her so happy. She would not be able to handle Athanaos's absence, and she was sure he felt the same. So she would do her best to give him more of these moments of happiness, more than she had already given. He has been such a blessing in her life, she could not fathom it being otherwise.

Perhaps this was meant to be. Perhaps he did not shipwreck here by accident. Perhaps the gods, while tracing the path of her life, have wanted to join it to his own, and give her a companion to walk it with. If that was the case, then it already eased a number of her fears, for what would happen, would happen whether she wanted it or not. In deferring her choices to higher beings, who knew better than her, she felt much more at peace about her own future.

She would do it, then. She would let the spark loose, and see what it led to...under careful control, of course.

Perhaps it was time for her to think about the future.

~~~~~

“Alchemy is a very complex science.”, Athanaos explained. “Even I don't even understand its mechanics all the time. But you don't need to know all sorts of complicated formulas to get to your goal.”

“Can it truly do anything?”

“Pretty much, yes. But it requires a lot of practice, and a heavy price. For now let's just start with something simpler?”

Killa nodded, and looked through her basket. The sound of liquid boiling away in the small copper pot filled the cabin with bubbly echoes, the glass tubes sending sunlight reflects on the wall like luminous half-circles that'd waiver at the slightest of twitches.

She pulled out some willow leaves, laying them neatly on the working table. Freshly harvested from the morning, they still had a pretty hue to their nerves.

“How about we start with extracting _sawsi_ juices?”

“Good idea. We can make it into many useful things.”

She cut and crushed the leaves with care, as he showed her how distillation worked and explained how it could bring out the useful extracts of plants. She watched with fascination, amazed by the complexity of this strange apparatus he's managed to put together, and he felt a bit of pride at that. He knew his science could appear a bit strange to others, but he wanted to share its applications anyway, for it could help so many people.

Right now, for instance, they were extracting salicylic acid from willow leaves, and he had plans to turn it into a pain relieving elixir with higher efficiency than herbal infusions. Would it ever be a hit in this recluse coastal Inca village? Who knew, truly!

But Athanaos didn't care about fame. If something he made could help even a single person feel better, then he would have accomplished his goal.

“You're quite good at this.”, he praised, as Killa was pouring the crushed herbs into the solution.

“Thank you. I have already prepared herbal medicines, this is nothing different.”

She took a look at the apparatus.

“Well, this _is_ preparing herbal medicines. Only that you're adding a lot of complicated stuff on top of it to make yourself look like a scientist.”

He scoffed at that.

“To look like a scientist? But milady, I _am_ a scientist. The most renowned one there is! If I wanted, I could craft gold out of ordinary iron!”

She has been smirking at his wannabe speech; but at the mention of gold, that smile dropped.

“Europeans and their thirst for gold.”, she sighed. “If you can really craft it yourselves, why do I keep hearing about other villages being pillaged and enslaved? Why do you bother invading our homes, taking our jewels and our lives, if all along you could do it by yourselves?”

He knew he hit a sensitive chord. And even though he was passionate about alchemy, the science itself had the goal of getting as much shiny metal as possible, which didn't help in making him look like anything but another thirsty European to the people of this land. And he felt uncomfortable about it.

“To be honest...alchemy isn't as widespread as I make it seem. People are afraid of it, they think it's some sort of witchery. Many brethren have been executed for practicing it, there's even been massacres!”

“You mean like the massacres _my_ people have gone through at the hands of _your_ brethren?”

Oh great Sages, he was really bad at this! He cursed himself a thousand times in his head, but the sheer casualty of her tone was added poison on the blade in his guts. Cutting, burning, and making him feel really bad on top of it.

“No, it's not what I...”

The way she looked at him, with these piercing moon eyes that looked too pale to be real, started to make him feel uneasy. And worst of all, he knew she was right, and that whatever he said, as a European himself, could be held against him.

"...alright.”, he sighed. “I know it will be useless to apologize now that the horrors have already started. But know that I don't consider to be of the same kin as those who commit such atrocities. That's all.”

“Of course.”

She said that with something spiteful in her voice, as if she didn't believe him. He couldn't help frowning.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Killa, look at me.”

“Why? What is it you want?”

What did he do to make her so angry? He didn't understand it, nor why it was so sudden. And he started to worry.

“What's going on?”, he asked, concerned. “Did...did I do something wrong?”

“Nothing, Athanaos. You did nothing at all.”

He didn't believe it. In a gentle gesture, he put his hand over hers, and she suddenly withdrew it. He opened wide eyes at this, as if slowly understanding.

“Is it about what I said the other day?”, he realized. “About...about you and I being-”

“No.”, she cut him off. “It's nothing. It's just me. I must be sick.”

“I told you to forget about it. That's nothing, it was just a folly. I said that without thinking, just forget it if it makes you feel this way.”

“That's all there is to you. Follies.”

She sighed, lowering her head.

“You don't take anything seriously, do you?”

“What? How so? What do you mean by that?”

She glared at him.

“You just say whatever's going through your head, don't you? You think you can just...ask such things of me, without considering how it makes me feel?”

“Please, just forget I ever asked them! Can't you just forget and move on, back to where we were?”

“You think it's that easy?”

She stood up suddenly, hands on the table to support herself.

“You think I haven't tried? I have, Athanaos, I have tried to move on. But I can't. Maybe you have ease moving on, leaving everything behind and abandoning all that you knew. Maybe you have fun cutting your roots and always doing what you want, going anywhere you please.”

She looked at him, her eyes heavy on his face.

“But I can't. I can't easily forget. I have bonds, I have roots here. I have duties, I have people counting on me. I have people who look up to me, who would _judge_ me should I do a single wrong step. Whatever decisions I take are not mine to choose, do you understand?”

He blinked, not knowing what to say. With horror, he saw her eyes were getting wet.

“You always talk of your travels, of the places you go to, of all these things you're free to do. And meanwhile I'm here, where I can't do anything, where my life is already drawn and all I can do is live it! Do you know what everyone would say if I married a stranger? Do you know what my friends would think if I had a European's children? Have you ever thought of that!?”

He hadn't. He hadn't at all. And the fact that she had, only took him aback like a punch in the gut.

She was right about to cry, now. Slowly, he stood up, and took her in his arms to comfort her. She didn't budge, even though she wasn't too appreciative of his touch.

“Killa, I...I never realized you were this worried about things.”

She said nothing, and just let out a quiet sob. Gently, he caressed her hair.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry I led you to such thoughts. I'm so used to being in control of my own actions, I...I often forget others aren't.”

Slowly, he invited her to sit down, and she drew away from his arms. Carefully, he held her hands, in a caring manner, and had her look at him.

“Let's just...let's just talk of it, alright? So you don't have to struggle alone with your thoughts.”

She made an effort to look at him, and nod. He showed a gentle smile, to try and reassure her.

“So...tell me. What do you think a future together would look like? Do you...do you really want to marry me and have children?”

“Is there any other way?”

“Why, yes, of course!”, he replied with some amusement. “We don't have to do all of that. We can just...be together. No rings, no ceremony, just the two of us. We don't even have to live together.”

“Then why bother being together at all?”

“I...I suppose it's something you know, more than something you show.”

That seemed to make her think.

“I guess...I guess I wouldn't mind. But it's all so new to me, and I don't want to do things wrong...”

“There's no right or wrong when it comes to relationships. We can do what we want, what we feel is best. We don't have to do what everyone else is doing.”

“This is all so complicated. It's so unheard of!”

“And that's why we can choose freely how to do it.”

She looked away, avoiding his gaze. He never did notice just how beautiful she was, when she was worried: for her little wrinkles of concern made him want to ease her doubts, to cheer her up. It was an urge he didn't know he had, as if he's lived all his life perfectly fed and just now discovered hunger, pranging at his gut and making him feel uneasy, pushing him to fix it.

“What is it you like about me?”

Her question took him by surprise. He blinked in confusion, not understanding.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged.

“You could have anyone in the village. You could have anyone, anywhere! People here may be wary of you, but I know some who would be ready to throw themselves into your arms, men and women alike. So why me?”

He started at her for a moment, unsure at all as to how to answer.

"I...I don't know. I don't know, really...I can't decide what my heart wants.”

Very gently, to not frighten her, he cupped her cheek.

“I suppose it's because you're the only one who has been kind to me. You showed me your good heart when I was at my lowest, and you helped me. And you let me into your world, too.”

“My world? What do you mean?”

“Well...your language. Your culture. Your customs, your celebrations.”

She smiled a little.

“Our alcohol?”

“Oh, I still remember that. Trust me, I'm not going to forget such a hangover.”

“And the very awkward dance that followed?”

“Please don't remind me.”

She giggled, and he admired the little creases on her cheeks that seemed to crown her smile.

“I tell you.”, he insisted. “If I had to choose only one person out of the whole world, it has to be you.”

“You're too sweet with me.”

“Too sweet?”

He scoffed, taking a haughty pose.

“Well hear yourself, miss Too-Sweet-For-Her-Own-Good.”

“Why, I am charmed by your naming attempts, but you know I'm right.”

“I've yet to hear what _you_ like about me.”

She looked a little flustered now, still avoiding his gaze, but not in a bad way this time.

“I suppose...I admire your resolve. Whenever you want to do something, you just...do it! Even if it'll bite you back in the arm later, you just do it, no matter what people think! Nothing's stopping you!”

“Is that really something you can like about someone?”

“Why, yes! And...and you know so many things! I'm learning something new with you, every day! And that's amazing!”

“So do I, you know. I guess it's a mutual learning experience?”

She smiled.

“But...most of all, you're...you're unknown.”

And this time, she met his eyes again.

“You're new. You're unexpected. I thought I had seen everything, until you showed up and proved me wrong. I can never know what direction you're going to take, what path your life is going on. And it both scares me and fascinates me.”

“Scares you? Killa, the last thing I want is to scare you...”

“No, not in a bad way. It's like...like seeing a cougar in the jungle from a distance. You know it can be dangerous, and could kill you if it wanted. But from where you are, it's a fascinating, beautiful sight.”

She sighed a little, still with that endeared smile.

“You wish you could come close, and witness that beauty from closer. But you can't, because of all the risks. So you just stand still, doing nothing, until...”

He rose a brow, tightening his grip on her hand a little.

“Until…?”

"...until it eventually walks away, never to be seen again.”

He did not understand that at first. It took him some time to get where she was going with this imagery.

“Do you really think...I'd kill you if you came close?”

“Not you. And...not kill. But that's what you are, you're...you're surrounded in mystery, in unknown, and in all sorts of things that could end up dangerous.”

He didn't know what to make of that, so he simply stayed silent. But she smiled, and cupped his cheek, her fingers delicately tracing his jawline.

“You are mystery. You are the thrill of the unknown. A thrill that I am still too scared of…but I know I will conquer this fear. And then, we can be together.”

Her touch was making his chest go all fuzzy again, and he felt his cheeks heating. What magic was this? What power did this woman have over him?

An incredible one, he thought to himself. A dazzling spell, a mighty charm. And he loved to be under its effects.

“I will do my best, then. To let you come close, and let you feel safe with me. And when you are ready, I will be there.”

“Thank you.”

She held his hands in return, her fingers smooth and soft over his own. Slowly, she leaned in closer, and he watched with bated breath as she laid her head on his shoulder. With a smile, he invited her in another embrace, and this time she returned it. They held each other in their arms, enjoying the warmth and closeness of this touch, of this embrace that seemed like it would never end.

But unfortunately, it did have to end. They drew apart slowly, still holding hands, the warmth of her body feeling like it imprinted itself on him, like a reminder of this touch, of her presence with him, right next to him, where he could enjoy it and cherish it. And it made him feel the fuzziest he's ever felt, and he couldn't help a smile from forming on his lips.

“So...what now?”, she asked. “What should we do now?”

He had to think about it, for he wasn't sure either. What was there they could do?

“Perhaps we can...keep doing what we usually do? And then see where it leads us.”

“I don't know how a relationship is supposed to be...”

“I have no more experience than you do. But it doesn't matter. As long as we both appreciate it and enjoy it, it will be good.”

He smiled with confidence.

“Come on. Let's not bother with asking ourselves questions. Let's live in the moment, and enjoy things as they come. Let's get the best out of our lives.”

“As you wish…”

They stopped holding hands, still a bit awkwardly. And as if nothing happened, they returned to their alchemy practice.

Although this time, their hands seemed to brush together much more often as they worked.

~~~~~

Killa's brush slowly trailed over the fibrous surface of the sheet of amate paper, as she traced some more traits in dark ink. Soon the profile of a man's face revealed itself from under her careful picturing, slowly taking shape between two gazes of the artist towards her unknowing model.

Said model was currently crouching next to some bush, making cutesy mouth noises and wriggling a piece of fruit in front of him to get the attention of some creature hiding underneath. Killa was watching with an endeared eye, as well as the tiniest of corner smiles on her lips as Athanaos was trying to attract what he thought to be a strange Andean squirrel. He was going all out with his attempts, as if just some chunks of guanabana fruit could get its attention. And it was very adorable to watch, but the real delight laid in waiting for the little surprise that was due any moment now. And she was eagerly waiting for it.

“You shouldn't mess with that thing.”, she said to herself, just watching.

The weird cat-like creature came out of its bush, and Athanaos attempted to pet it. Killa closed her eyes with a smile, finger raised as if waiting for the best part of a musical piece; and soon indeed, Athanaos was heard screaming and cursing the damned striped beast in all sorts of languages. She let out a sigh at his cluelessness, unable to help a laugh from leaving her.

Athanaos was kicking at the stinky squirrel, which had just sprayed him with some weird pungent mist. It was everywhere on him, and reeked of rotten eggs, making him want to puke. Look at him taking off his shirt in a hurry to try and hid himself of this smell! He cursed the skunk as it was escaping away, obviously disgusted, and Killa couldn't help laughing loud enough for him to hear.

“Hey, that's rude!”, he frowned. “You knew it would attack me!”

She snorted some more, as he was making his way closer to her.

“What?”, she said innocently. “Was I supposed to tell you not to mess with strange animals you meet?”

“I'm not joking. This stinks! It's everywhere!”

And indeed, the smell wasn't pleasant at all, making her pinch her nose.

“When was the last time you ever bathed?”, she complained. “You smell like a wild skunk that has been angered by an unknowing idiot!”

“Very funny.”

He tried to rub his skin with leaves to get rid of this stench. She only chortled some more, trying to shut herself up as he did, and he sent her an angry glare.

“We'll see who's laughing when it happens to you.”

“Well, for a start I don't mess with wild animals that I know will attack me. And even when I do, I don't make such cute idiot noises.”

And she mimicked the way he was presenting the creature with food, lips puckered and making odd sounds. He rolled his eyes, arms crossed.

“I don't sound like that.”

“Yes you do.”

“I don't!”

“Athanaos, I saw you. You do sound like that.”

“That's not true!”

He frowned again, and she only laughed more. Feeling embarrassed, he however found some revenge in grabbing the paper sheet she was holding.

“Hey! Give it back!”, she protested.

“Why so? I'm just admiring your work.”

That smelly idiot was looking so smug about himself. She couldn't help pouting in fluster, still reaching for her drawing.

“Give it back, it's not done!”

“That's lovely brushwork you got there. I love the horse.”

“That's not a horse, you stinkbutt, that's you.”

He blinked, and looked at it again.

"...that's not me at all.”

“Can I help that you look like a horse?”

“Wh- I _don't_ look like a horse!”

“Why, I'd say you are. You're tall, long-faced and when I look at you, I just wonder what in the world you are and who brought you here.”

“Oh, now that's mean.”

He frowned. Then, he grinned evilly.

“If that's what you think of me, I'm keeping it, then.”

“What!?”

“You heard me. I'll have lots of fun hanging it on my wall.”

“Hey, that's not fair! Give that back!”

But he held it up, out of her reach.

“How about you come and get it, if you want it back so much?”

“I'm so going to kick your rear.”

And she chased after him.

He was fast, running through the grass laughing, waving the drawing just in her reach, before yanking it away again. She had a bit of trouble to follow in her tight dress, but there was no way she was giving up. He was leaping up rocks, disappearing behind bushes, and almost falling a number of times, laughing like an idiot as she chased him. And for no reason, after a time of this, she started laughing as well, trying to outsmart him and get a hold of him. He kept escaping her grasp, like a nature spirit she could never truly touch, something that wasn't even of this world, something that made her feel like she could never catch up to this fleeting, running impression of a human person.

And then he tripped on a tree root, and landed face down in the grass. So much for a nature spirit!

He tried to get up, but she easily pinned him down, out of breath and satisfyingly wearing her smile of triumph, trapping him under her knees.

“Now give it back.”

He sighed, admitting his defeat, and handing her the drawing back.

“In all seriousness, I like your style. You should draw some more.”

“I wish, I wish.”, she said as she folded it neatly and hid it up her sleeve. “But paper is not that available. I have to save it for the things that count.”

He nodded wisely in agreement. But then, he blinked.

“And...you just used it to draw a portrait of me?”

That seemed to take Killa aback, as she looked away.

“Why...sure, why not? I mean, you deserve to be painted down.”

He smiled, covering his face a bit.

“Aw, look at you. Now you've done it.”, he chuckled.

“Why, am I making you shy?”

“A little.”

She smiled, before holding his wrists and pining them down, above his head. Her hair was falling down and touching to his face, framing his sharp and reddening traits as she leaned closer in.

“That's for making me run.”, she whispered in an evil, but not mean tone. “You have brought your shyness onto yourself.”

“Cruel witch, will your torments ever end?”

She grinned at his fake-scared face.

Their noses were almost touching, and for a moment she didn't even notice how close they have gotten. When she realized, she felt her cheeks heating, and saw just in what position they were right now; with her knees on his chest, her hands pining down his own, and him being shirtless right now. And he seemed to have noticed it too.

They stayed like this for a time that dragged on forever, none of them daring to make the first move. Her smile had long since gone, replaced with another moment of fascination for him, that had slithered its way into her mind. He was such a beautiful man… Should she withdraw, should she lean closer? There was no one around, no one but the silence of the green plains, the rustle of the breeze in brushes and tall grasses, the faint peeping of birds in the distance. In this haven of nature, anything could happen, and no one but the wild animals would ever witness it.

No one would know. No one...no one would judge.

She leaned closer, very slowly, as if gravity was gradually catching up to her. She had no idea of what she was doing, but she let it happen. He too was accepting it, closing his eyes and leaving his fate to her. Without she could control them, her lips parted ever so slightly, and her eyes closed on their own. Their faces were just a breath away one from the other. Anything could happen. Anything…

And what happened was that out of the blue, the still-present stench of skunk self-defense came back to her nose, and she withdrew her face with a disgusted motion. How horrible! She quickly covered her nose, voicing out her strong bias against getting any closer to that rotten pestilence, and Athanaos jerked back in surprise from her sudden move. She opened her eyes again a second later, and realized with horror what had almost happened.

“I'm sorry!”, she quickly said. “I'm so sorry, I- I don't know what-”

He was still blinking in confusion, as if not processing what had taken place. But when he did, he quickly sat up, making her get off his chest. Realizing what position she was in, she hurriedly stood up, brushing off her clothes to get the grass off.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to...”, she was repeating frantically.

He stood up as well, very confused, and at a loss for words. Understanding the state he was putting her in, he stepped back, an apologetic look to his face.

“No, I...I'm the one who's sorry.”, he said quietly. “I didn't mean to...to make you so...”

She wasn't looking at him, and he felt his gut grow heavy. He made her feel bad, and felt horribly guilty about it.

“If there's anything I can do to make it better, I...”

“Please.”, she cut him. “Let's...let's just forget it.”

He tried to say something, to argue. But all will left him, and he simply nodded.

“Let's go back. You need to wash.”

She didn't wait for him, leading the way back to the village. He sighed, cursing himself internally, and eventually followed.

~~~~~

Athanaos carefully wrapped up some elixir vials in a cotton cloth, and put them in his bag as well, between some spare clothing and a writing kit. If he managed to make everything actually fit, he would save himself a lot of time, so much that he could even leave tonight if he wanted. But he'd still have to put his cabin in order, so it would be spotless when he returns.

Still at the door, Killa had barely moved. She was watching his every actions, watching as he pondered what to bring with him and what he could do without, pack and unpack his one bag endlessly trying to fit everything in. She had barely said a word, or even put down the lunch basket she had brought as usual.

“I won't leave forever.”, he assured. “It's just a little study trip to the Maya lands. I will be with people I know, I have nothing to fear. I promise.”

She didn't seem to want to believe him. Maybe she couldn't. He put down what he had in hand, and smiled at her.

“It's not like I had anywhere else to go. But I have to do something of my life, you know? I can't just stay here all the time, I...”

He searched his words for a moment.

“I may not be part of the Order of the Hourglass anymore, but I'm still an alchemist at my core. And what I'm about to see could perhaps help science as a whole! I _have_ to be there!”

Gently, he held her hands, and she looked at him with surprise.

“If everything goes right, I'll be back before the next moon. I'll make sure to tell you of everything I've seen!”

He made his best to be reassuring and confident. But she didn't feel like returning his smile.

“But...what if it _doesn't_ go right?”, she asked quietly. “There's dangers on the road...”

“I've made sure I wouldn't cross through any risky territories. I have already been to the northern lands, I know the language well enough, and I have all I need.”

She nodded, as if she knew that already.

“I'll bring you a keepsake.”, he continued. “Anything you want. Ask it of me, and I will do my best to bring it to you.”

“No, you don't have to. As long as you return to me safe and sound, I'll be happy.”

He couldn't help noticing she sounded like a concerned housewife. And he felt that to be endearing, but didn't comment on it.

“Here.”, she said, offering him the basket. “You need to eat before going anywhere.”

“You're so thoughtful. Thank you, dearest.”

The little nickname seemed to surprise her some more. Her cheeks wore a faint pink tint, and she glanced away.

"...just, don't do anything reckless.”, she warned.

“I won't.”

He sat down on the ground to eat, offering her some. But it seemed she didn't have the stomach nor the cheer to share his meal, simply looking ahead of her.

“You'll barely notice I'm gone. It will be smooth.”

“But I'll notice it anyway.”

“And? Don't tell me you wouldn't use some time away from me.”

He chuckled at that, hoping to make her laugh. But when he saw she wasn't smiling, his efforts died down awkwardly.

"...I'm gonna miss you.”, he just said. “I'll think of you.”

“I'll also miss you.”

They looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. Then, as if he had an idea, he smiled.

“Here. I'll leave you something to remember me by.”

He reached behind his neck, and undid the strings of his necklace, which he handed to her. She opened wide eyes at this sight.

“But...it's your medallion.”

“You can keep it while I'm gone. That way you'll have something of me.”

He smiled wide. She reached out to it, hesitatingly, but withdrew her hand.

“No...I can't. I can't take your family's heirloom like that.”

“But I want you to have it. I don't trust anyone but you to take care of it.”

“It's the only thing you have left from your homeland! Trust me, Athanaos. You will need it more than I ever do.”

And she closed his hand on the medallion, sealing her insistence. He could only sigh at that.

"...if you say so.”

He said nothing else for a moment. Then, silently, he slipped the coin out of its moon-shaped socket.

“How about you have the emblem, then? And I keep the pendant. That way I get to remember my family, and you get to remember me.”

This time, he made sure to nudge his hand and insist, until she eventually took the little golden coin. It was gently gleaming in the weak light of the house, its engravings shining with sunlight and mystery. She looked at it for a moment, before keeping her fingers tight around it.

“I will watch over it. I will keep it close to me, and pray for your return.”

“And meanwhile, I will think of you.”

He tied the string around his neck again, letting the little golden moon rest on his chest. She put her finger on it, tracing the curved edge to the tips, feeling the relief of the fine chiseling under her touch.

“I fear nothing.”, he assured. “As long as I have this moon around my neck, I am protected from anything that comes my way.”

“That's a good thing...”

She looked up at him.

“But I'd like to put another moon round your neck.”

And very gently, she hugged him. It took Athanaos a moment to get it, and return the embrace tightly.

She squeaked just a little under his strong grip, but very soon leaned into it, her face in his thick hair. He allowed his hand to rub her shoulders, soothingly, and his eyes to close as to better enjoy that moment of intimacy and trust a last time before his departure. Out of everything he's known here, this feeling of happiness, of comfort was maybe what he would miss the most. He didn't want to let go, not now, not ever, for he was afraid that if he did, he would never get to feel it again. He was confident, but Killa's doubts had made their way into his mind, and now he was getting thoughtful and worried as well.

What if something _does_ go wrong, indeed? What if he never sees her again, through some ironic twist of fate?

No. He mustn't let himself be ridden with such thoughts. Everything would go well. It would be a safe trip, and he would return in good health and time. He would see her again. Nothing would happen. He must not let himself doubt his own resolve and confidence.

Slowly, they drew away from the embrace, and he looked at her. He would miss this face, her sharp and adorable face that he's grown so accustomed to. But what could he do about it, but accept this short separation? It would be for the better. And perhaps she would have time to think about the future, and what she wanted for the both of them. He needed some time too, so it would do him good to introspect and think.

“When do you leave?”

“This afternoon, if I can. I...I need to get to town before nightfall.”

“It will be lonely without your company here.”

“It will not be for long.”

He didn't know what else to do in such a moment. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but he knew it would be inappropriate. She was still uncomfortable, and he had to respect her wishes. So instead, he held her hands tight, and smiled, to assure her that everything would be alright. And this time, she returned it.

“Come. Let me help you pack up.”

“You're very kind, but I'm almost done.”

“And what about it? Come on, I want to make sure you have brought warm clothing. Nights up north can get very cold.”

He didn't see the use in fighting the motherliness he was being met with, so he just embraced it and let her do as she pleased.

He would miss it. He would so terribly miss it.

~~~~~

“Did you want to see me, Mamacuna?”

Killa politely bowed her head before addressing the woman in front of her.

She who watched over the maidens of the Sun Temple was the oldest woman in the village. She was a knowledgeable and skilled leader, that even the weight of her many years barely seemed to stop. For maybe as long as Killa could remember, she has been the one taking care of their education, teaching them the arts of life and the crafts a young woman had to know; she was a good mentor, and her advice reflected her experience of life and its many turns. Her respect was easily earned, for she had this aura of wisdom around her, an aura many revered.

But today, said aura was quite heavy on the young maiden, who felt like she had done something wrong. Being called alone in front of the temple mistress was either a good or a bad sign, and she didn't feel like guessing which fate would be hers today.

Mamacuna took a long look at her, as if judging her on some criteria Killa knew nothing about. She did her best to stay as still as possible, and not let her anxiety show. She needed to be on her best behavior at all times, after all!

After a moment, the leader spoke.

“I did, my child.”

Her tone wasn't angry, which probably meant well. Her voice was carrying the weight of these many years, shaking and weakening, but it still carried itself out to whoever had to hear it.

“Killa, my good child. I still remember when we first took you in, at the dawn of womanhood. You were an eager little one, always wanting to learn more of everything. And you had such dedication, such energy!”

Killa couldn't help a faint smile. But the elder's brow frowned a little, which made her quickly drop it.

“You have always carried this dedication with you, and I have seen it at work many times. However, it seems to have faded away from you. I do not see your resolve, your burning flame anymore, and I worry.”

“I...I'm sorry, Mamacuna. I suppose I am not feeling too right these times...”

But the elder rose her hand, interrupting her softly.

“Since you joined us, I have cared for you like a daughter, like I have with everyone. I have seen you grow, I have seen you act. I know how you are when you are at your best, and I know how you are when you are not feeling right. And clearly, you are less than 'not too right'.”

She didn't know what to answer to that, and simply shut up.

“There is something troubling you, my child.”

The elder's piercing eyes stared right at her.

“There is _someone_.”

A shiver ran down Killa's spine. Her heart thumped out with nervousness.

“My child, I have been young once. I know what you feel like...how that man makes you feel like. I have seen with what eagerness you would head out to join him, and I know how happy his presence makes you.”

She came closer, and held her protégée's hand.

“But I have seen how it affects you. You have gotten distracted, absent-minded. You have not paid attention to your lessons and practices. And now that the stranger has left, his absence wears you out.”

“I'm sorry. I will do better, I promise. I...I'll pay attention.”

Before her maiden's insistence, Mamacuna simply sighed.

“Killa, my dearest. This is not just about attention. This is about _you_. This is about the path your life is taking.”

She did not understand.

“Since that stranger came in and seduced you, you have started to stray away from the path that was meant for you. Under the pretense of friendship, I see very well what feelings you exactly have for him. And we both know you cannot continue on this way. It is against your vows.”

“But...but do maidens not get the opportunity to marry?”, she attempted, reaching for any argument she could hold onto. “Do we not learn the ways we can take care of our spouses and households?”

“A virgin of the Sun is not just any woman, Killa. She is a high, noble figure. She is refined and educated. Should she become a wife, she is only worthy of nobles and courtesans. Her place is nowhere near the common people, and even less foreigners.”

She pat Killa's hand, in a kind fashion.

“Besides, you have the favors of our creators. The Sun God shines favorably on you, my dear. Such devotion, such faith is not to be wasted in marriage. For who knows if one day, you will not replace me as head of this temple?”

“Mamacuna, this is...”

She did not know what to say, or even how to feel. She had known since the start her life was meant to stay between the walls of a temple, to live in faith and a familiar, reassuring routine of priesthood. To now know that she could one day succeed to Mamacuna as leader of the maidens was the greatest of honors she had ever envisioned, one that only cemented her life further into that of a vestal. Such was her destiny, the path she had wanted to be traced for her.

But now...now she was having doubts. Now that Athanaos had come, and had shown her what was beyond these walls, beyond what she knew. He had been her first taste of the unknown, a taste that lingered in her mouth like the memory of a delicious feast. She had shown endless appreciation for all that he represented, and all that he was. She had made her way into his world, baby step after baby step, and while she was still at the doorstep of it she had learned so much already. And while she remained still in her resolve of becoming a Mamacuna in turn, there was that little hint of doubt, that little “what if?” in the back of her mind, a little voice that kept reminding her of the beyond, of the unknown, of the adventure that awaited her if she ever found the courage to come and get it. A voice that she had tried to quell, but that Athanaos's recent departure has started to make much more persistent. It all laid in one simple question.

If he could leave whenever he wanted, and go wherever he felt like; _why couldn't she?_

"...this is an honor.”, she finally said. “I will do my best to be worthy of it.”

“It is an honor indeed. But most of all, it is a responsibility. If you want to one day take on that mantle, you will have to dedicate yourself to it. You will have to express complete devotion of your body and soul to the Sun God, and you will not be able to leave until your bones are tired and your eyes can barely see anymore, and it is time for you to return to the Mother Earth. It is a heavy task, and I only trust you with it, for you are the only one who can carry on.”

Gently, she cupped the maiden's face, her old hand dry like wood yet delicate.

“This is your path, Killa. This is the chance you have been born for. And I want you to get it, and to show the best of your potential. But the only way you can do it is by renouncing him.”

Her eyes widened slightly. She couldn't have heard that right…

“I...I don't understand.”

“You have to let him go, my child. You have to stop seeing that man.”

Something in her throat got heavy, squeezing in and making it hard for her to breathe. Her chest was pounding with something like fear, something she hated. Why...why did she suddenly feel like this?

“Killa. I know it will not be easy for you. And I am very sorry to see you cry. But I want what's best for you, even if it hurts.”

Was she crying? She hadn't even noticed her eyes getting watery. She tried brushing her tears away with her fingers, but it only made it worse, spreading a watery glint all over her cheeks.

“But...but why? Why does it have to be this way? I don't understand...why can I not be friends with him anymore?”

“I am afraid what afflicts you is no longer friendship, my child. You have fallen in love.”

Fallen...in love? What? No, it couldn't be. She was...no, she'd have known it! She knows what her own feelings are, after all! And she knows she's definitely not in love!

"...no.”, she whispered more than she said. “It's not...it's not that. I'm not in love with Athanaos...”

Mamacuna had an endeared, motherly smile.

“My poor, sweet child...oh, how I wish I was as clueless as you sometimes.”

She chuckled a little.

“If you are not in love with him, you won't have trouble making without him, right? If he ever comes back, go to him and tell him you do not want to see him anymore. For it hinders your progress and blocks your path in life.”

Her path in life. A path she had always seen as already traced out for her, a path she was following religiously. A path whose limits she was just starting to see.

"...I will, Mamacuna.”, she conceded, not knowing what else to say. “I will...I will not see him anymore.”

“Very well.”

Gently, the elder took Killa in her arms, a comforting and motherly gesture that only made her heart ache more. What was going on? Why was she feeling like crying? Of course, she would now have to not see Athanaos anymore, and losing a friend was awful...but there was something else to it. Something she didn't know of.

Could it be Mamacuna was right? Could it be Killa had fallen in love with him? Could it be her hesitation, her fear of the unknown were getting replaced with the intrinsic desire to know, to see, to experience?

Could it be her own heart has betrayed her?

When Mamacuna let her go, and Killa returned to the maidens' quarters, she couldn't help but think. As she leaned on a wall and did her best to calm her tears, she thought about Athanaos. About what they've lived together, about his confused proposal for a relationship, and about how they would let things grow the way the two of them wanted. For long had she thought her feelings for him were but friendship...but now that he was gone, she found just how much she was missing him. She thought back to him, and remembered his smile, his hair, his amused laugh, his hands, and all these little things about him that she liked, and that were much more than she'd ever have thought. He was almost omnipresent in her mind, something she had learned to appreciate, to admire, to cherish.

To love.

She thought back to that day in the plains, where she's been chasing him to get her drawing back. When she fell on top of him, and her body had started moving without she could control it. When an unexplained urge had suddenly risen in her body, an urge to get closer, to let these impulses act out, to give way to wishes she didn't know she had made. In the sheer heat and intensity of this moment of closeness, she had almost abandoned herself to it. She had almost... _kissed him._

Slowly, she trained her fingers to her lips, picturing what this sensation would be like. She closed her eyes, and imagined he was here, right in front of her, her body pressed between his' and the wall, and that their faces were closing in together, and that their lips met in a soft, tender caress that drew a tiny sound out of her.

Quickly realizing just what she was doing, she hurried back to her quarters to calm her thoughts. Some chatting with the maidens before they had to return to their duties would do her some good. Maybe it would help her forget, and help her move on.

The bud of her feelings had barely sprouted, and she now had to nip it. But would she be able to ever carry out such a cruelty?

~~~~~

“Right now, I live in a country a little bit to the south. It's a fascinating land, right on the coast to the western ocean. I've seen the great temples they have, and they're absolutely gorgeous.”

“But they can't be better than our big mounds and pyramids!”

“Ah, but you know such beauties can't be compared easily.”

The group of young kids made noises of excitement. Athanaos chuckled, taking a crude map of the continent from his bag to show them.

“It's somewhere around here. Whereas your land is here.”

“You've come from far!”

“And all by foot!”

“Are you not tired?”

“Oh, I’m tired indeed. That's why I came to rest in your village today. But when morning comes, I'll have to keep going. I need to get...right here, where the two oceans almost meet.”

Again, the kids gasped in amazement. He couldn't help smiling, for it was so easy to get this reaction out of them.

He was almost at his goal, following a safe road through places he knew the customs to. As evening was coming, he's found some hospitality in a little Mayan village, who allowed him to rest and resupply for the night. He planned it to be just a quick rest, but his presence has drawn the attention of several young children who have never seen a foreigner before. And with their parents' permission, he's decided to show them what it is he was doing and where he was going, for such priceless reactions were making his day.

“My goal is to eventually find the Cities of Gold from the old legend. Imagine this! Gigantic pyramids and temples, made of solid gold that shines like the sun!”

“That's not real.”, said one of the kids. “You can't make a city out of gold!”

“What do you eat in the morning? Gold bread and gold maize?”

“Do you drink gold water?”

That made the group laugh, and Athanaos had to admit the idea was ridiculous to picture.

“Yes, it does sound unrealistic.”, he admitted. “But these Cities are not like the cities you know, with people and houses and little children like you. They're not places you live in, but places to host great knowledge. Within the Cities, are many secrets and inventions that can change life as you know it.”

“Secrets? What kind of secrets?”

“Well, for instance...oh, you know of boats, right? That allow you to travel the seas and rivers. Well now, imagine a boat that allows you to travel the sky, by flying like birds! You could go anywhere you wanted!”

“Flying boats!?”

“We could even go to...to a country where candy grows on trees, and animals are taller than mountains?”

“Such a country does not exist, stop saying that!”

“Yes it does!”

“No it doesn't!!”

“Come on, children.”, Athanaos attempted, hands raised. “You know the world is much bigger than what we think.”

His storyteller's voice seemed to get their attention again.

“There is still so much we have to discover! So what tells you there are no trees that grow fruit as sweet as honey, or animals that are so big they can pass for islands or mountains? Perhaps one day we can find out.”

“Can _we_ find out?”

“Why not? The world needs curious souls to travel its lands. Who knows if one day you will not discover something no one knew before?”

The little girl's eyes lit up with excitement and dreams. The qualities of a young explorer, that Athanaos has had since his own childhood. It felt a little strange to see himself in the eager faces of these kids sitting around him; it made him feel nostalgic of the times he was no older than them, and was reading all the stories of explorers and researchers from all around the world, with the determination to someday join their ranks.

And now it was his turn to tell his story to a new generation. How weird it felt! But how proud it made him!

“But mister!”, another kid asked. “What if we discover everything, and one day there's nothing left to discover? What will we do?”

“I can promise you that will never happen. For there is always something to see, something to unearth! Here, look.”

He flipped his book to another page, showing them expert sketches of bird faces.

“See all these little birds? They are actually the same species, that can be found on some islands in the north. Yet they all have different beak shapes, to eat different foods! How did that came to be? Which one was there first? And what does it mean for other animals? Perhaps one of you will find out someday!”

But needless to say, none of these kids seemed very enchanted by theories on tiny birds and their beaks. Athanaos noticed the rather awkward moment, and flipped to another page. And apparently, sketches of gigantic lizard remains seemed to get their attention way better.

“That's a feathered serpent!”

“That's what you call it. But this one right here has been found in China, where they call them dragons. And some have been unearthed in other regions of the world, some that are very far apart. Could it be that a long time ago, gigantic dragons were ruling over the world?”

“They're the gods!”

“That's a valid theory, yes. Perhaps you could manage to prove it is the truth, someday?”

It seemed so easy to fill up their hearts with hope. He liked that, it made him feel like he did bring something to others' life. Unfortunately, it was getting late, and the children got quickly ushered home by worried parents. Athanaos thought about getting some sleep as well; that's when a tiny hand tugged on his tunic.

“Oh? What is it, little one?”

The child didn't look older than eight, with lovely little brownish curls falling around his face. He was carrying a small woven blanket, that he handed out to him.

“Here. My mama made it for you, to wish you good luck.”

“For me?”

Honestly that struck right by his heart. It looked thick and comfortable.

“Why, that's very nice of her! I have to thank her before I go.”

“She says you'll get cold if you go north. And that's not good.”

“It's very nice of her to care. And you're very nice to help her, too. What's your name?”

The child offered a cute, shy smile.

“I'm Wayra. I'm seven.”

“Well thank you very much, Wayra. Give my thanks to your mama, will you? I will not forget your kindness.”

The child giggled, before leaving on quick feet. Athanaos smiled, looking at the patterns of the wooly blanket with endeared eyes. The weaving style was more Inca than Mayan, which maybe explained why this adorable child had an Inca name. For a moment, he pictured what it would be like if he were to come back to Killa's village, and she saw him wearing the gift of another woman on his shoulders. It made for a cute thought about domestic jealousy, but it soon vanished to only leave that heartache behind.

He missed her. He's grown so fond of having her to keep him company, have lunch with him every now and then, tell him stories and watch him as he did stupid things for a moment of attention. Over time, as months passed, he's learned to love the way she always kept herself as neat as if she were to meet the Emperor, the way she'd pick grass blades and weave them in her fingers whenever she got bored, the way any little thing could be a toy for her if she was distracted enough. She had so many little things about her that made her so unique in his eyes, that made her someone he wanted to cherish and care for.

He knew the way she would exhaust herself to work until she could barely keep standing, which contrasted with the way she'd scold him whenever he stayed up a little too late. She cared for him and his well-being, and he only wanted to care just as much for her own in return. He wanted to give her many gifts, to watch over her, to return all the kindness she's shown him since he arrived here. He wanted to shower her in affection and watch her thrive happily, see her smile and laugh and be happy.

That night, as he laid in bed, he held the blanket to his lips, imagined it was a gift Killa had made for him. He thought of her weaving these intricate patterns at the light of the moon, styling the wool one thread after the other, all with the goal of keeping him warm and safe from the breezes of the southern winter. The fuzzy feeling in his stomach spread through his body as he dreamed of it, as he let his thoughts wander, as he pictured inviting her for a warm cuddle under that blanket, his arms wrapping around her and her head pressed against his chest, her hands seeking the warmth of his hair to hide in, his hands feeling the solid touch of her back and shoulders to rub and protect. Slowly she would look up, and her face would seek the comfort of his neck, her breath warm against his skin, making him shudder in delight. Her lips would graze his goosebumps, drawing sighs and moans out of him, and soon he would return the gesture, and soon their faces would meet and…

And…

...and he wasn't sure he should keep entertaining these fantasies. It was wrong to think of Killa this way. She wasn't ready, she didn't want to kiss him, she was...she was likely not even into him to begin with. She was always very serious, very well-kept, and likely only gave him interest and attention out of pity. Didn't she take him for a homeless mendicant the first time they've ever met?

No, wait. He shouldn't think like that of her. She's let him into her world, she's shown him compassion and kindness, and he knew her feelings were genuine. She was his best friend! His companion, someone he could tell everything to! Perhaps with time these feelings would change, and their attraction would become mutual. But for now, he shouldn't worry about it. He shouldn't think of it too much, for as long as she was there, he'd accept everything she wanted to give him. That's how much he cared about her.

His hand reached for the moon pendant around his neck, feeling its curvature yet again. Oh, how he missed her...but it wouldn't be for long. His journey was soon over, and then he would come back to her.

He would...come back home.

~~~~~

Her hand reached for the sun emblem in her pocket, feeling its engravings yet again.

How she missed him! How she missed his little everythings, the things that had made her life so exciting. How she missed his company, his stupid jokes, his laugh, the silly things he'd do for a moment of her attention. How she missed the mere sound of his voice, speaking to her and telling her so many things.

It was horribly cruel that she had to let go of him. That she had to force herself to forget that feeling that had just bloomed within her. That feeling she's thought she'd never experience herself, and always see from a distance in the hearts of her friends who unlike her would get to marry and love whomever they pleased. She knew she shouldn't complain, that a great honor was being granted to her, and that she would have to play a role nothing could replace. But still, she couldn't help feeling envious about this freedom that was denied to her.

“Killa, is everything alright?”

She raised her head, letting the coin fall back into her pocket. Sumailla's concerned eyes were set on her, her brow frowning with worry.

“You're barely eating anything. And you look tired again. I'm starting to worry!”

“It's nothing.”, she assured, looking away. “It's nothing at all.”

“You've been like that for two weeks now. That's not 'nothing', that's alarming!”

Killa said nothing, stubbornly silent. Sumailla sighed, and grabbed her hand with force, making her turn her head.

“You're worrying me sick! You _have_ to tell me what's going on, or else I'll start believing you're letting yourself die!”

“That's not that. Just...just leave me alone, I don't have the heart to talk.”

The younger sister frowned, her grip tightening.

“Is it because of that man? Of Athanaos?”

“Do _not_ start going that way, Sumailla. This is my last warning.”

“So you _do_ miss him. We were worried he's put some spell on you, and you're just confirming it.”

“I said, do not go that way!”

She frowned at her.

“You cannot understand what's happening to me. So don't you try. Don't you start saying you want to help me, don't you start saying you want to comfort me!”

“Wh-? What's gotten into you?”

Killa managed to free her hand, and turn herself away.

“I don't want to talk about it. That's all.”

“But it's hurting you. And we all know it does. You're barely eating anything, you're crying at night when you think you're alone, and no one has seen you smile for days. Where has your usual cheer gone?”

She did not answer, stubborn as ever.

“Killa...please, talk to me. If there's...anything I can do, I-”

“You can't. That's the problem.”

Sumailla blinked in surprise.

“You can't help me. No one can. That's...that's mine and mine alone to deal with. And I appreciate you're trying to help, but you can't do anything about it. Neither can I.”

Her eyes were getting wet again. She brushed her blooming tears away, before they had a chance to escape.

“I know I can't.”, Sumailla sighed. “But I thought...I thought at least, you could talk to me about it. Perhaps it would make you feel better?”

“What? No, that's...that's not your role.”

“And why not?”

She sat next to her elder sister, gently holding her in her arms.

“Whenever I've had a problem, you've listened to me. You've offered me your advice, and your help. And even when you couldn't do anything, it made me feel good to talk about it with you, and know you were listening.”

“But I'm not supposed to vent my own problems onto you. I’m supposed to guide you! I'm supposed to-”

“You're supposed to help your sisters, so that one day they can help you in return.”

With the sleeve of her dress, Sumailla helped wipe her elder's tears.

“Please. I know you have pride, and I know I'm maybe not the best at giving advice. But I know that sometimes, the best thing to do about a problem is to share it with someone who will listen. It will make you feel much better already.”

“I don't know...I feel like I shouldn't.”

“It's not like your feelings for that man were a secret, after all.”

She giggled.

“We've all seen how you acted whenever someone mentions his name. Don't you think we haven't noticed how you suddenly started combing your hair with much more care than before, or with what eagerness you put yourself together?”

“That's doesn't mean anything...”, Killa denied.

“Really? Then how come that suddenly, fetching water takes you twice as long as before? Or that whenever you have a moment of free time, you sneak outside and join him for some strange shenanigans? And remember that time some pilgrim spoke ill of little Quispe, and you fought him away with your broom like it was a spear? Where in the world have you learned that?”

Killa remembered this incident, and wasn't very proud of it. She's simply defended one of the youngest maidens from a creep, but in retrospect she could perhaps have done it without showing off the fighting training she's had with Athanaos.

“This man has had an influence on you, Killa. And now he's gone, and his absence makes you sad. I may be a bit clueless, but even I understood that.”

She found nothing to answer to that, save for a sigh.

"...yes.”, she eventually admitted. “He's had an influence on me. And...and I miss him, I horribly miss him. But now, I cannot see him anymore.”

Sumailla held her hand, gently this time.

“Did Mamacuna tell you that?”

She nodded.

“That's awful.”, said the little one with her childish simplicity. “Why can't you love him?”

“Because...”

She thought of it for a moment. Why couldn't she?

Because it was forbidden. Because it wasn't what was meant for her. Because the path of her life did not allow for love, for it was a path she had to walk alone. She was meant to someday succeed to Mamacuna, to guide a new generation of sun maidens, to teach them the arts of priesthood and provide them with everything they needed. She repeated to herself once again that this was what she wanted, what she had always dreamed of, and that it was her choice.

Well, not exactly. If her path had already been laid out for her, then it meant her choice hasn't truly been her choice. If everything was always decided in advance, then no matter what she did, she could not escape her destiny. Her fate has been decided before she was even born, and she's always seen it as something reassuring.

But now a doubt was making its way into her mind. If she had no choice at all in anything she did, then does that mean she had no choice but to have met Athanaos, gotten to know him, and fallen in love with him? Was it also decided since the start? But why? And how come? How come her destiny was to remain a virgin of the Sun, but also to marry him? Could it be that he was somehow tied to her life, in a way she couldn't envision? Was she meant to know him, but not to love him? Was her life as a maiden only a way for her to ever meet him? But why? Which of these ways was wrong? _What was the path she was meant to take?_

"...because I'm not sure anymore of what I should do.”

There was silence for a time. She kept her head down, overcome with existential doubts about everything she thought she's ever known. Sumailla was still holding her hand, thinking with what little experience of life she had. And to Killa, it felt like the problem at hand was even deeper than that, and that she could never find its solution no matter what she did.

Athanaos had told her about the possibility of choosing her own path. Of tracing down her own destiny. Of choosing herself what she wanted to do. But it was way too hard for her, who has grown accustomed to the idea of everything being chosen for her. And even then, she wasn't as mellow as before, for she didn't want to follow Mamacuna's order of stopping to see Athanaos. But was it still her decision? Or was it just some ploy of fate, to lead her in a direction she had no control over, even when she thought she had?

If she were to leave the temple, she would be left without anything familiar. What would she do with her life, if she couldn't stay here? Where would she go? She had no skills outside of what she had been taught. She knew little of the outside world and the life of other women. She didn't know what she could do of herself, for she's never had to think about it growing up.

What would become of the temple? She was the best of the maidens, she had been designated to lead it someday. They would all be relying on her, needing her guidance and knowledge, and she would have to consecrate her life to raising and teaching a new generation of chosen women, for the rest of her life. It was an important role, one that Mamacuna entrusted her to carry on when the time comes. If Killa weren't there to do it, who would? Who knew as much as she did, who else was as skilled and watchful and devoted? Who else could rise to the task, the responsibility of being the best?

“Do you sometimes feel...like your life is all traced for you?”, she asked quietly. “Whether or not you truly have a choice in what you're doing?”

The question seemed to surprise Sumailla.

“Well...of course. Inti guides our lives with his mighty light, so we do not get lost.”

“Does that mean that...that nothing we do is our decision? That everything that happens to us, good or bad, is meant to be?”

“Well...”

The little one took a moment to think.

“I suppose that…that in the end, there's a lot of things that can happen to us. If I sit there and never move again, nothing will ever happen to me again, including what is planned for me.”

Killa blinked.

“Do you mean that...even though everything is already decided, we still have a part in how it happens?”

“In a sense, yes? I mean, imagine if your destiny is not to be a maiden of the Sun, but...a sailor. You'll never know it unless you actually get on a boat, right?”

That got a chuckle out of Sumailla, and Killa started thinking more about it.

“Personally, I like to think there's not one way, but many ways my life could go.”, she continued. “Many possible destinies. I could have been a farmgirl, or a potter, or a quipu decoder! But instead, I chose to be a maiden.”

Gently, she held her big sister's hand.

“And I don't regret it. Because I got to meet you.”

She smiled, a big shiny smile that illuminated her face. Slowly, very slowly, Killa started to understand.

And, for the first time in weeks, she finally smiled as well.

~~~~~

After days and days of walking alone, the little Inca village was finally in sight again. And finding that little land again made Athanaos smile wide, and hurry his pace.

It has been quite a journey. At the end of his long travel through Mayan lands, he did find what he was looking for, a clue of tremendous importance for the search of the Cities of Gold. Finally he was making progress! He's taken some precautions, and resorted upon the help of people he knew, to make sure Ambrosius and Laguerra wound never find it. This would buy him some time, and it was but the first step in a bigger-scale plan he's thought of as to protect the secret of the Cities. Everything was going well, he's made sure of it. And now, it was time to return home.

He made his way down the grassy hills, towards the houses near the coast. It was such a bright day, one he thought ideal for his reunion with his beloved. Oh, how she's been on his mind! How once his goal was clear, he's kept thinking of her, and how happy he would be to see her again! Nothing could please him more but to quickly find her company again, and hold her in his arms!

His eager step turned to fast walking, which in turn became running, without he even noticed it. He barely remembered to return to his cabin to drop his travel bag, that he was already headed for the Temple of the Sun. He almost forgot to slow down to a more respectable pace before entering, and looking around with excited eyes. Killa was nowhere in sight, so he tried to be a little more self-contained while waiting for her. He decided to calm his mind with prayer, thanking the Sun God for having led him safely back home, and for allowing him to pursue his goal. Even if he was a renowned alchemist, he could afford himself some religious belief.

When he opened his eyes and stood up some minutes later, he saw someone was coming his way. The familiar dress quickly sent his heart into excitement; but it was someone he didn't know, another maiden of the temple. This one was shorter, with lovely curls that made her look like a sheep.

“You're the Atlantean, right?”

He quirked a brow at that name, but nodded anyway. He had been called worse in his life, after all.

The maiden glanced around, took his hand, and led him down a hall in the temple, where he was pretty sure he had no right to be. He wasn't too sure about what this could mean for him, or if he'd gotten in trouble; but the fact she knew of his origins meant she was close to the only person he's ever told about them. And while it didn't exactly reassure him, it gave him some hope.

She opened a door that led to some study room, which was empty for now. He wanted to ask her questions, but that's when he saw Killa was there, waiting for him. Their eyes met, and his heart suddenly thumped out again.

He didn't wait. He hurried to her side, a smile on his lips, ready to hold her close and to tell her all about his journey-

And she pushed him away.

“Don't.”

He stopped in his tracks, blinking in confusion. What?

"...alright.”, he said, assuming she didn't want to hug. “Oh, Coyolite be praised, it's been so long since I last saw you! How are you doing? I hope you had a good time, I can't-”

“Please.”, she cut. “Please, just...don't make this any harder.”

She seemed to be concerned with something, and he didn't understand what. Slowly, he reached for her arm, but the little maiden held him back.

“I'll explain.”, she said. “We maidens of the Sun have taken a vow of celibacy, unless we are preparing to get married. And Killa isn't of those. So...to simply put it, she isn't allowed to see you anymore.”

“What!?”

He turned to her.

“Is that true?”

Killa sighed, turning her face away.

“I'm sorry, Athanaos. But that's how it is.”

“Wait...you can't just...”

He was at a loss for words. His heart was still beating fast, but it wasn't from excitement anymore. A cold feeling was running down his back, and he wasn't understanding anything anymore.

“Why…? Who says you can't be with me?”

“Everyone, you idiot, everyone! I can't be with you, because that's not what I'm meant for! Because I have a role to play, and I can't allow for anything to drive me away from it!”

“What? Now wait just a minute, what does it have to do with your goals? You can be a maiden and still see me, right? That's what you've always done so far! And it never bothered anyone!”

“Times have changed. There's...there's so much everyone expects of me, and I have to give it my all. If I want to succeed and take my rightful place, I have to give up on ever leaving this temple. I'm...I'm sorry, Athanaos, I’m sorry it can't be any other way!”

She covered her head with her hands, as if she was having a crisis. He tried to speak, to say something, but his words got lost in his mouth, and he didn't find the way to draw them back out. All he could manage was confused sounds, his voice starting to shake.

It couldn't be. It couldn't be! Not after everything they've been together! It couldn't end! It couldn't end now, it couldn't end like that, it couldn't end at all!!

“I don't understand.”, he managed to speak, his voice trembling. “I...why? Why are you doing this?”

“It's not me, don't you see? It's not my choice anymore.”

Her voice was strangled, like she was sobbing but refused to show it to him. Was she...was she being forced to say this? Was it truly what she wanted?

“There's always a choice.”, he insisted, his vision getting blurry. “It's your life! Your decisions! You don't have to do what others say you should, you're in control!”

She didn't answer, another quelled sound leaving her throat as she stubbornly turned away from him. This sight wrenched his heart, made him feel more horrible than he's ever felt, and he couldn't bear it. He couldn't stand here and do nothing, not when she was crying right in front of him!

Despite the little one's protestations, he stepped forward, and held her tight in his arms. She squeaked, trying to push her away, her hands wet with repressed tears.

“Let go of me!”, she insisted. “We can't do this, Athanaos! We can't anymore!”

“We always can!”, he responded fiercely. “We can do this. We can triumph of what they expect of us!”

“What tells you so? What makes you so sure of it?”

“Because I believe in it! That's all I need, that's all _we_ need!”

And he tightened his embrace. She stopped fighting, only crying more, and the sound of her sobs added to his own.

“We can...we can leave this place.”, he assured, trying to sound confident. “We can leave everything behind. We'll go somewhere we can be free.”

“Everything always sounds so simple with you. But we can't. We're not in a fairytale, we're not in one of your stories. We can't just ditch everything we know, we...we can't do this.”

“Why not? What's stopping us? We'll make by. They'll find someone to replace you. We'll sail the world, we'll go anywhere we want! No one will ever tell us what to do!”

She sniffed, trying to stay composed. But it was horribly hard for her to do so in that state.

“That's not how we can solve our problems.”, she said after a time. “We can't solve everything by running away from them.”

“Why not? That always worked for me. It will work for us!”

“That's the problem!”

She turned around to face him. Her eyes were puffy, her face was red, and she was not at all in a good state.

“All you know how to do is running away! You're hiding where you think they can't find you, and you refuse to face the consequences of your actions! But _I_ do! Everything I do has consequences that I have to face! If I run away from here, it will affect all the others too! And I can't do that! I can't betray everyone I love and care for, everyone that cared for me too! _I'm not like you, Athanaos!!_ ”

She's almost shouted that last part at him, and that's how he knew just how much it was weighing on her. He let go of his embrace so she could breathe, and she sniffled her tears away, looking down again. Her hair was falling in messy streaks over her face, adding to these pitiful looks he's never seen her with.

"...I'm not like you.”, she repeated, almost in a whisper. “And I hate myself for it.”

And she fell into his arms, sobbing against his chest.

Whether he wanted it or not, she was right. He _was_ a runaway, a coward who hated confrontation. That was his go-to solution, one he thought would never bring him anything bad. But now that he was faced with it, faced with the reality of his choices, he knew how much it hurt her. He cursed himself for it, he wished he could stop fooling around for once and finally do something good in his life. If he wanted to keep her by his side, he would have to.

But how? How to do that? He didn't know how the temple worked, he didn't know how to conciliate Killa's vows with her relationship. He thought for a moment of marrying her, so she could perhaps leave priesthood in all safety, but something told him this wasn't the right answer. Not to mention, it was way too soon for that.

So he said nothing. He held her against his chest, rubbing her back slowly, letting her cry her heart out. Crying was good in times like these, it was what a saddened mind needed. And he couldn't help shedding some tears as well, for his own heart wasn't left whole by this ordeal.

He didn't know how long they stayed like this, huddled one against the other, crying together to help soothe their bleeding hearts. He's waited so long to see her, and now that they were here, this was what life has brought them to. How cruel of fate to do such things to them! Could they not live out their relationship in peace? Did something always have to rise up between them, to pull them apart? What obstacles would he have to face, what would he have to triumph of to finally be with the woman he loved?

What if he wouldn't get to triumph? After all, she said it herself: they weren't in a fairytale. There would be no heroic fight that would bring them together, for it was how real life was supposed to go. Their love would never have the chance to bloom and thrive, and nothing would grow out of it.

"...is there really nothing I can do?”, he asked, in a last attempt.

She shook her head.

“We are to never see each other again. I am not to speak to you, or even look at you in the eye. I...I have to forget that I've ever known you.”

“Can we not even meet each other in secret?”

“Athanaos, be serious, please. We will be found out.”

“Well, we...we could be extra careful! We'd only go out under the cover of darkness, when-”

“I said be serious. You know how your plans get when you're making them up in such haste.”

She wasn't wrong, he had to admit.

“Well...I'm not going to just do nothing about it. I'll think of something. You can trust me! I'll be careful.”

She sighed, looking at him in the eye.

“I appreciate your assistance. But if we're being honest...today is maybe the last day I get to see you.”

She stepped back, and reached into her pocket. Slowly, she handed out the golden coin of the sun medallion.

“Here. It's yours.”

He stared at it for a moment, staying silent. Then, as resolve started building up within him, he pushed her hand away.

“Keep it. If you're giving it back, it means you're giving up on hope.”

“Athanaos...”, she sighed in frustration. “You're making things difficult.”

“No. I'm just trying to find a way for us to both get what we want.”

He thought for a moment.

“You're not supposed to speak a word to me, they said? Alright. You don't have to. In fact, we can work very well with it. You don't have to speak to me, to tell me what you want to do. Go ahead.”

She looked at him for a moment, confused. But then realization hit, and she slowly understood where he was going at. She looked at the coin again, at the moon pendant Athanaos was displaying on his chest. Thoughtful, perhaps still confused, considering.

Slowly, she put the coin back in her pocket. He smiled.

“What else? Oh, right. You must not set your eyes on me. Why, it would be very rude to disobey, wouldn't it? Let's do as they say.”

She smiled at his mischievous tone, and closed her eyes. Slowly, he moved closer to her, embracing her, and she returned it. Instinctively, his lips touched to her hair, a gentle graze that made her shudder.

“We will think of something.”, he whispered. “But for now, I want you to do exactly as they said. No words, no glances. Hear me? Do _exactly_ as they said, and do not under any circumstances give me either of these two options.”

She snorted at that, and nodded. Slowly, her lips searched the dark to finally land on his collarbone, where they left a gentle trace of their passage. His lips descended down to her forehead, and he closed his eyes as well, in solidarity with her. His hand cupped her cheek, and her own soon did the same. Another kiss landed on his chin, where he had recently shaved, and one found the way to her pointy nose. Another one touched to the corner of his mouth, and another one to her cheek, still salted with tears. He could feel her breath right on his skin, and in it, he could feel her hesitation. His thumb brushed across her cheek, her fingers tightened their grip; and in a thrust of resolve from the both of them, the distance between their lips vanished.

The kiss they shared felt like a breath of life.

Her lips had this faint salty taste of tears, but the softness of ripe fruit by a warm summer day. In that moment, when he had her so close to him, they felt like the best thing ever he could ever have pressed against his own mouth. His hand joined the other on her cheek, bringing her face closer as her own rested on his shoulders, holding safely onto him. He didn't move, he didn't twitch, as if he were afraid this would break the peace of this unique moment, this moment he shared with her for the first time in weeks. And she understood his feeling, for she seemed to bring him closer. Their lips parted for a second, but she suddenly grabbed his face, and brought them together again, this time with more eagerness than ever. He allowed his lips to open just a little, his head to tilt, so they could share even more of this intensity that burned within them, and she gladly accepted it, adding her own fire to their heated, passionate touch. It was new, it was exciting, and he never wanted it to end! But he quickly found himself out of breath, and they both had to let go after a time, which he was certain he would never forget.

They both have stopped crying. Her cheeks were heated, her hair in a mess, and he was sure he wasn't looking any better. Without knowing why, he smiled, and she returned it too, before remembering to close her eyes. He embraced her tight, feeling her body close against his', and buried his face in her hair, where a thousand of familiar sensations met him again. How he wanted to bury himself in them, to never leave this cocoon of warmth and happiness! How he wanted to keep her there, with him, by his side!

But all good things have to come to an end. They eventually let go, holding hands for yet another moment, as if refusing to totally part. Yet they had no choice in it, had they? Slowly she released her grip, and returned to her friend's side, who checked outside the hall before letting her out. As for Athanaos, he was standing there, paralyzed by reminiscence, his heart definitely moonstruck by the sheer power of the moment. It was the maiden's hand that brought him back to reality, as she led the way outside in a hurry.

That kiss wasn't a parting gift. It was a promise. And he would do anything in his power to respect it.

~~~~~

Needless to say, the following months got quite strange for Killa. And the strangest thing of all, was that she was completely fine with it.

Of course, it had taken some time to get used to it. But once the initial sadness of separation passed, it had become a game of sorts. A game she loved to play.

Now that she wasn't going out anymore, anyone could see she was focused in her work again, doing her chores with diligence and her usual competitive spirit. She wouldn't mention her foreigner friend anymore, busying herself with work to not think of him. When asked, she would say that she did miss him, but that their separation was for the better, and that she would forget it. It was as if she had entirely accepted it, and she was getting praised for her strength of mind. And everyone believed her, for it was not like her to lie.

Yet she did not lie. Not once did she speak to Athanaos after their last meeting, nor did she look him in the eye. When she would get down to the village, she wouldn't be seen anywhere near his cabin on the outskirts of town. Whenever people mentioned him, she would not listen, or look disinterested. It took a while for questions to finally stop, but they eventually did, all for the better, and to Killa's great happiness.

What naive people she lived with.

That afternoon, she was busy in the gardens of the temple, checking the flower bushes for pests. She was alone, the other maidens busy with their respective tasks, like any other day. Which was a good thing, actually; for after a while, a flurry of orange and blue perched on a nearby stone, making her raise her head.

“Killa, Killa!”, it chanted in its cooing voice. “Who's a charming lady, who's a charming?”

She snorted, smiling wide.

“Why, it's nice to see you too, Hermes.”

She reached out a hand, and the macaw happily nuzzled it, looking for a scratch on the neck. It pecked at her fingers a little, and she pulled a seed from her pocket, showing it off.

“Hermes? Hermes, be good. Give me, and I give you.”

The parrot tried to nibble it, but eventually stopped, and offered its leg to her, where the little piece of cotton was tied. She took it off, letting the bird have its prize, and eagerly unrolled the tiny piece of cloth, to read what was written in a round Latin alphabet.

_“Killa, my sweetheart, how days seem long without I can talk to you! I have seen you from a distance at the beach yesterday, and I did not dare come to you. You seemed to me like a goddess, your eyes longing with some sadness I wish I could have helped. I miss you terribly.”_

She sighed, holding the missive against her heart as she thought of him again. Oh, how she missed him too! She couldn't wait until the time would be right for them to meet again...oh, how her heart _ached_ in his absence! She just had to tell him!

She looked around her, to make sure no one was around. Then, taking a blank little square of cotton cloth from her pocket, she sat by a flat stone, under Hermes's curious eyes. She also took a piece of inkwood twig, and chewed the bit until the dark sap started seeping out. Then, focusing on her handwriting, she replied.

_“Athanaos, my darling. I understand your pain and your solitude. My own heart aches in your absence. Please take care of yourself. I will leave something by the flower tree.”_

She let the sap dry for a moment, turning her attention to the parrot which was preening its wings. It was Athanaos's idea to catch one and train it to convey written messages, which of course had seemed too fancy at first, but eventually proved much more efficient than their usual trick of leaving each other gifts in a designated place. He's found a way to convey spoken speech into written text, and she patiently taught herself to read and write it. How curious of a way to communicate! She's heard of it from other people, but never thought she would ever need this skill. But it proved to be a safe way to talk to one another without ever speaking a word; for indeed, even if these messages were to be found, no one would ever know these squiggles actually meant anything. No one would ever know.

“So how is he?”, she asked the pretty bird. “How is Athanaos? Is he okay?”

“Athanaos, pretty lady. Pretty pretty lady. Miss you.”

She chuckled, patting its head and letting it climb on her hand.

“I miss him too. I hope he's eating well. You'll tell him that, right? Eat well.”

“Okay. Okay.”

She managed to tie the dried message around Hermes's leg, and pat it for another moment before it took off again, towards the hills. She watched the colorful wings flap in the air for a moment, before sighing and carefully rolling Athanaos's message and putting it with the others, in a little pouch she kept around her neck, right by her heart. Where she would find them all, to read them again when she felt like thinking of him.

He would still talk to her of anything, in a shorter way of course; he'd tell of his discoveries, of the things he did, of the things he wished they could do together, and of plans he had for the future. And she's found that with time, and as their separation progressed, his plans were progressing too: from escape routes and talks of sailing ships, they were slowly reducing in scope, becoming more humble. More domestic. Soon he had openly admitted his desire to marry her; and while she's been surprised at first, she wanted to entertain that fantasy. For she didn't know how long they would be kept apart, or what they were waiting for. They knew that they needed to wait, that was sure, but what for was still a mystery. But it was fine, she thought. As long as they could still talk to each other, and make sure they were alright.

Such was their little game, and the only thing that would keep her from breaking down. Such was the way they would bid their time, until circumstances were more agreeable. Such was the way they coped with the other's absence.

A little later in the day, while she wandered in the forest to get to the stream, she made a short detour to find the lone willow tree surrounded with flower bushes. Making sure no one was around, she displaced a root to the side, revealing a small cavity in the ground where a little wrapped package was waiting for her.

“Oh, you silly old fool.”, she smiled, taking it.

She took her own package from the water pail, and put it in the cache, hiding it with the roots. The soil would keep the cornbread warm and fresh, and he would enjoy this familiar taste. Then, still glancing around her, she quickly returned to her task.

As the pail was filling up, she opened the package of leaves, and found some sort of shiny, polished white stone, hanging on a braided string. It was absolutely beautiful! Amazed, she read what was written on the leaf.

_“It is a Mayan moonstone. I don't know why, but it reminds me of you for some reason.”_

She couldn't help chuckling at that. He would never change at all, would he? She admired the shine of the moonstone, turning it in her fingers, and put it around her neck. How considerate of him! She would never get used to receiving gifts, it seemed. She would gaze at it for hours on end tonight; for now, she concealed it under her collar, and finished drawing water.

Out of nowhere, a branch cracked somewhere in the forest, and she raised her head. Someone was here! She looked around, thinking another maiden had joined her, but saw no one.

No one that wanted to be seen.

Her little smile dropped as she slowly understood. She could almost feel his presence with her, his invisible presence that was the closest she could ever get to seeing him again. And it made her heart heavy to know that he was there, so close to her, but couldn't even come and talk to her, or show himself for her to see. But such were the rules of the game.

Slowly, she closed her eyes, and breathed in the fresh air. There was no sound around them besides the rumble of the stream, the whisper of the trees, the distant calling of animals in the branches.

She opened her mouth, and started singing.

“ _Shine, while you live, and have no grief at all… For life is not eternal, and Time demands his due._ ”

There was nothing for a time, as her notes echoed up in the foliage. But slowly, from somewhere she couldn't see, a man's voice answered her.

“ _Shine, and don't regret, for life must carry on… Have no fear for the future, for I will think of you._ ”

She smiled, letting this melody embrace her like a loved one's hug. She kept singing, in a slow voice, a voice to which another echoed.

“ _Shine, and please remember, you'll never be alone… My time here might be over, but hope will linger through._ ”

They were here, they were together. She wished she could get closer, she wished they could be face to face again, that their improvised duet could have a chance to really shine. But this was all they could do. This was all they could afford to do, and what she had to content herself with.

“ _Shine, my dearest darling, do not await me there… Keep on living for me, and I will wait for you._ ”

The little ballad ended on a sad note, which reflected with no doubt what she was feeling right now. Her hope was there, yes, but how long would it remain? How long until eventually she would crack and give into the temptation of opening her eyes again?

She stayed still, unmoving. Listening to the forest around her. There was nothing for a time, and then the shuffle of feet moved away from the stream. Away from her. She waited until it was totally gone, before turning around and heading back to the temple.

Such was their game. Such was the life they'd have to live.

~~~~~

One night, Athanaos had a strange dream.

He was walking through grassy plains, wind rustling in the tall tufts that reached to his knees. The sky was an odd color, and there was a voice in the air. A singing voice, that seemed to come from all around him. He was trying to follow it, to see who was singing, but he could only get more lost and confused, and admittedly scared. It felt like the more he was walking, the less he was moving at all.

That's when he heard a little sound. Some sort of chirp, right by his foot. He looked down, and searched under the thick grass until he found a little ball of wet feathers, that he picked up. It looked at him, and turned out to be a tiny chick that looked like it had just hatched; it was cheeping at him, lost and hungry as it was. He smiled, and held it against his chest, to keep it warm and safe.

But suddenly the chick started fighting back, and escaped his hands in a flurry of grown feathers, revealing itself to be a blue and orange macaw. He ran after it, feeling his heart overcome with grief and sadness, and called after it as the bird distanced him more and more. It suddenly occurred to him that he could try and fly after it, so he flapped his arms and managed to lift himself off the ground, but his body was too heavy and the effort too much, and he fell down again. The macaw stopped and looked at him, and its feathers started to turn a dull gray like it was dying. Before he could do anything about it, his body paralyzed on the ground, the bird fell down and disappeared, lifeless. He tried to speak, to scream, but his throat couldn't utter a single sound, as if he were being strangled.

The grass moved, and started to flap, and he realized it wasn't grass but feathers: a gigantic pair of wings that took off, surrounding the place where the macaw had fallen. A confused form rose up to the sky, and he could make out the silhouette of a vulture or a condor in the blinding backlight of the sun.

He was weak. He was sad, utterly defeated. He reached out a hand, and the raptor landed there, its bare neck rubbing against his fingers. He started crying without realizing it, everything trembling and fading around him. The bird looked at him, and Athanaos saw with great surprise that its eyes were shining a golden light. He tried to touch its head, to caress it, but the dream suddenly lost its substance and everything faded to black.

He woke up confused, a bit disoriented, and definitely worried for a reason he didn't know. If he started having strange dreams, he would never hear the end of it.

The sun hadn't fully risen yet, but he decided to get up anyway, and get some fresh air. A bit of a walk would help him think, and ease his mind a little. Perhaps he could pick some herbs he was in need of, or set to find new sights to tell his beloved about. He made his way to the grassy hills, where some animals were peacefully grazing about. He's learned his lesson since the skunk incident, and carefully stayed away from them.

From there, he had a lovely view of the coastal village, of the place he's got to call his home as seasons have passed. How long has it been since he's arrived here? At least a couple years, he was sure of it. That's for how long he's also known Killa. He kept thinking of her as he sat on a rock, watching the people wake up below and get to work. The fishing boats were getting ready to sail to the horizon, and perhaps hope to get more than the few they had yesterday. For a few months now, there's been a rather rough weather in this side of the land, and the harvests have suffered. Perhaps he could try to offer his help in the fields; he was a strong guy, after all. And it would give him something to do.

A hint of color in the horizon caught his attention. He squinted at it, standing up to try and see what it was. It was hard to say, but it looked like...a procession? But there were no celebrations being held right now, were there?

They were headed for the Temple of the Sun, without a doubt. He wondered what that could all be about. Well, only one way to know: carefully walking down the hill, he decided to head there. Maybe they'd bring a good surprise.

~~~~~

The moment the procession came to the temple, Killa knew something was off. They didn't look like they were here to pray or give offerings; on the other hand, they had demanded villagers to hand over their finest goods, by order of the Emperor. That was a strange occurrence, but she knew from her elders that it had already happened before, in times of celebration or other event of great scale. Everyone in the land had to contribute, one way or another.

And should they have contented themselves with food and cloth, Killa would not have thought twice about it. But now, all the maidens were being gathered in the main court, a flurry of pale dresses and straight shoulders, and confused glances and whispers.

“What is going on?”, Sumailla asked, standing right next to her elder. “They never make us gather here.”

“It's something very important. These people must have come all the way from Cuzco if the Emperor sent them.”

In the long line of the procession, she could see other pale dresses following: other virgins of the Sun. They were decked with beautiful jewels, their hair ornamented with feathers. This was no way for a humble maiden to dress!

“I don't like this.”, she muttered. “There's something odd going on.”

Sumailla gasped, and scooted closer to her, seeking the comfort of her sister's presence. Killa held her hand, aiming to reassure her.

After a time, Mamacuna appeared in front of her girls, her expression grave and serious. She raised her arms to the sky, and started speaking, in a clear voice heard by all.

“My children, the gods are unhappy with the way they have been treated. Our creators have turned their backs to us and to this land, and famine is upon us. We must show them our reverence, we must ask for their forgiveness and their mercy.”

Famine? She knew harvests have been bad, but to this point? What did it have to do with them? What could these people want from maidens like…

…no. Wait. It couldn't be that…?

“My daughters, you have been chosen to serve the Sun God by any means that are. The time has come for you to prove your gratitude and your devotion.”

Her eyes looked over the crowd of girls and women before her, with the wise gaze of a knowing and watchful eagle.

“All those of you who have not yet lived their fifteenth year, step forward.”

There were some confused glances around, and movement. The younger maidens stepped forward, some still little girls, and their elder sisters retreated. Killa and Sumailla looked at each other, before the latter let go of her hand, and joined the other girls in the line presented to the eyes of the foreign priest.

Slowly, he started looking each of them over, examining their faces and postures like they were lamas being sold. Some he looked at for a solid minute, some he only gave a single glance to before moving on. Those who did not meet whatever criteria were at stake quickly retreated away, stepping back with their elders and whispering in anxiety. Seeing how quickly the first ones returned, the others figured the high priest wouldn't find what he wanted, and that it would all be over soon. Yes, it likely would. It would not end up the way Killa thought. She looked around to try and see Sumailla in the ranks that had come back, but couldn't. Turning back to the maidens in the front, she saw with horror that the priest was now standing in front of a girl with hair like alpaca wool.

Her heart beat faster than ever. The priest took his sweet time looking her over, tilting her head to the side, putting his hand on her in ways Killa definitely did not agree on. She couldn't tell what he was thinking of, and the thought of anything happening to her raced through her mind. It couldn't, right? Any second now, he would shake his head again and move on to the next girl. It was the only way it could happen. There was...there was no other path to this. No other. No other!

But the priest didn't move on. He didn't move at all. Instead, he took Sumailla by the arm, and led her to Mamacuna.

“Have this one prepared to go.”, he said. “She shall join the other tributes.”

Killa's heart skipped a beat.

Tributes.

_Sacrificial tributes._

Her feet moved without she commanded them to.

She started running, running towards her, towards the girl they have chosen, chosen to be _sacrificed_ like a beast. Her voice screamed out, screamed something she couldn't even hear, as she tried to reach for her and get her out of here. Arms suddenly restrained her, and she nearly fell in her haste, trying to break free of the maidens' hold. She reached her arm out, calling out Sumailla's name, her own voice escaping her without she could control it.

Sumailla saw her, and Killa saw her face caught in an expression of fear, as she held out a hesitant hand to her elder; but Mamacuna held her back, and she withdrew it, looking away with great effort. But Killa kept calling, refusing to let go so easily of her friend, of this precious girl she had loved like a sister for all these years, of the one she would not hesitate to call family. Of the one who had taught her a valuable lesson.

_You are in control, Sumailla! You can decide of your path! Fight it, please!!_

But Sumailla did not put up a fight. She lowered her head, taking Mamacuna's hand and following her, like an animal led to the killing block. Killa quickly lost view of her, surrounded by other maidens, as the procession resumed on its way and everything proceeded as if nothing had just happened.

She wanted to fight. She wanted to resist. She wanted to rush in, to find her sister again and take her far away from here, away from danger. Away from the fate she had accepted without resistance. She did not hear what the others were saying to her, whether they were scolding her behavior or trying to reassure her. She did not care. She couldn't care.

Faced with such passivity, such acceptance of everything, she felt her own body become limp and weak. She had no more strength to stand, and other girls had to support her so she could keep on her feet. But she didn't want to, she refused to keep standing when her sister, her best friend would be deprived of it soon.

She felt a hand on her cheek. A wrinkled, dry hand, that made her look up slowly, even though her eyes were wet and blurry with tears.

“Do not worry, my child.”, Mamacuna's voice said softly. “It was what she was meant for. It was her path, and she accepted it.”

She _accepted_ it. It was given to her, _imposed_ on her, and she merely _accepted_ it. But did she _choose_ it? Did she choose to become a tribute, to join these hundreds of other children who would have their breath taken away, their life stripped from them? If she had been given the choice, would she have done it?

Killa knew she wouldn't have. She's seen the fear Sumailla bore in her eyes. The fear that hid beneath her thoughts, the fear of what would happen to her. Did she know what her fate would be? Did she learn of the practice of sacrificing maidens should the gods demand it? Or was she being kept in the dark, her questions unanswered and her realization much more frightening?

Did she know they would never see each other again? And if she did, would she have chosen this fate anyway?

She did not know where she was going. She was simply being led by another maiden, to go and prepare the tribute to join the sacrificial procession. They would dress her up with the nicest jewelry and ornaments they had, until she was as beautiful as a bride or a princess.

They would take so much from her. She would never get to know the surprises of womanhood, the satisfaction of seeing her skills progress, the joys of welcoming a new generation of maidens under her care. She would never become a real bride, and know all the treasures of domestic life in the comfort of nobility. She would never get to grow past the age of girlhood, and she would never see the life outside of the temple.

And she has _accepted_ it.

For Killa, this was the final straw. This was the proof that these stories of paths, of chosen fates and destinies were but a fraud. It could not be that this was the fate the gods have chosen for her! How could such a sweet girl, such an innocent and friendly companion, have been fated all along to die before her life could even start? How could her life be but a casualty, where it could have been filled with potential? What made her out to be just a tribute, something to sacrifice with the same ease as an animal or a bag of grain? _Why did it have to be her!?_

She couldn't accept it. She couldn't stand here and do nothing. But she wouldn't be able to change things. This was...this was what was expected of everyone. No one could say anything about it, no one could change it. No amount of crying, of begging would change anything. No human emotion could triumph over the power of things that were meant to be. Sumailla had been chosen, and it meant her fate was sealed.

Killa didn't know what to do. She felt lost, scared, confused. She felt like her legs would give up any moment now. She felt like she was in the wrong, like caring about her friend was somehow bad. Like her human emotions were not desirable in this context.

But have they ever been? They did not accept her love for Athanaos, they did not accept her grief for Sumailla; what else would they deny her? What else would they force her to quell and to silence, because it wasn't suitable for someone like her? Had she not a right to express herself? Had she not a right to point out how _wrong_ this all was?

She repeated to herself that she had chosen this path. She had chosen to be a maiden of the Sun, no matter the consequences. But these...there were too much to bear. These were not what she had wanted. There were not what could be expected of her.

She did not want this. If being a maiden meant she couldn't be allowed to grieve for her friend, to express how unfair this sacrifice was…

...then perhaps she didn't want to be a maiden anymore.

Everyone around her had gone, without she even noticed. She was all alone in an empty hall. Somewhere further ahead, voices came from where she knew Sumailla was being prepared to join the procession. She would know the delights of material life a last time before it ended altogether, and for some reason this made Killa sick. She couldn't stay here, she didn't want to stay here, where her feelings were irrelevant and overlooked.

Her feet moved again, without she commanded them. She walked up the stone stairs, to her quarters. She searched the cache by her bed, and found the little pouch where she kept Athanaos's messages, as well as the golden coin. She put it around her neck, took out a piece of cloth and wrote something hastily, despite her blurry eyes. Looking out the window, she whistled loudly, like a wild bird; and in a manner of minutes, Hermes the colorful messenger showed up. She tied the message around its leg, and held it close before sending it away. Then, without catching her breath, she made her way down.

She almost ran into another maiden, a tall lady about her age by the name of Chami. And she didn't look too happy.

“Killa, where have you been? We've been looking for you. Come, Sumailla is almost done.”

She couldn't find the strength to look at her. She just couldn't face anyone.

“You don't need me for this.”, she replied grimly.

“Oh, come on. The two of you are so close, usually. Don't you want to say goodbye?”

She didn't know why she suddenly shoved her aside, and resumed her furious stride. Chami just stared at her, befuddled by such an irascible behavior, and luckily didn't follow after. Killa used her usual way out of the temple, without being seen; and when her feet touched to the grass, she started running.

She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know why she was doing it. It was as if her body wasn't hers anymore, like some deep impulse had taken full control. It wasn't like her to do things without thinking them through; but now, she could only obey whatever was holding the reins of her conscience. She had no idea of why she was running, or where she was going, or what was the goal to all of this. Yet she did it, like it was something she _had_ to do, like she would die in turn if she didn't.

She didn't know whether she was running towards something, or _from_ something.

She barely remembered to breathe as she dashed, following whichever road sounded most logical in her haste. She had abandoned all idea of coherent thought, of reason, of what was acceptable or not. She didn't care if people saw her, if people would say anything, if people would remember it. She couldn't find in her heart the force to care about anything, except running.

When she reached the flowery plains, her legs gave up, and she fell on all fours, scorching her hands on the ground. Her lungs were aflame, her throat burning with choked tears, and her eyes were welling up. She was panting, wheezing from both fatigue and heartache, and her chest was desperately trying to keep up and make her breathe by any means. Sobbing hiccups escaped her mouth, and her arms were trembling as they tried to support her shaking body. They eventually gave up, and she fell in the grass, curled up on her side, unable to see clearly or to breathe properly. She did not even want to, she only wanted everything to stop and turn black, so she wouldn't have to face this world ever again. This cruel, horrible world that took her sister away from her.

Something laid on her shoulder, taking her out of her dark desires, and she looked up. In the blurry confusion of her watery eyes, she saw a man's silhouette leaning over her.

Without hesitation, she got up and fell into his arms, her heart finally deciding to sob her sadness out. Athanaos's hands laid on her back, holding her close and pressing her body against his own, shielding her from the evil that would certainly come and get her next, once it has been satisfied with taking the life of her friend, her only family.

She couldn't speak properly, she couldn't start explaining what had happened, she couldn't form a coherent thought. But he didn't need that to understand just how she felt right now. He held her close and tight, staying silent, and where she thought she would have found comfort in his arms, she only saw the dread that had settled over her mind, and that no amount of physical contact would be able to erase.

At least he was here, ready to comfort her. She doubted he could, but in times like these, even the tiniest effort was appreciated. So she did nothing else, simply laying in his arms, and trying to calm her weeping heart.

She felt his face touching to her hair, gently nuzzling. Where it would otherwise have been a cute gesture, right now it didn't help her sorrow at all. But she didn't fight back, still crying, for she needed it more than anything else right now. She needed to let it all out, to give her emotions a chance to speak for themselves. And more than anything, she needed someone to _listen_ to her, even if all she did was bawling in his arms.

Athanaos didn't say anything. All he did was offer the comfort of his arms, the reassuring presence of his touch. He gave her something solid to hold onto, and she realized just how much she needed it right now. In her current state, stability was what she needed maybe the most.

She didn't know how long she stayed like this. Minutes, hours didn't matter to her anymore. Her dread and panic had slowly faded, replaced with fatigue that settled over her still-shaken body. She was tired, she didn't have the strength to move anymore. She was weak. She was mortal. She had nothing respectable to herself anymore, nothing graceful. She was but a shell of a human being, in this moment.

And yet he supported her. Not once did he flinch, or try to move away. Not once did he say anything. He was there, he was a solid given that could not be taken away from her. And if she had to hold onto this hope, she would, for she needed hope right now. She needed anything remotely positive to keep her head above water.

Little by little, her sobs quieted down, her throat stopped hiccuping. She's tired herself out with all this crying, she just wanted to rest. Weakly, she held onto his arm, grabbing it as tightly as she could, and he seemed to understand. He sat up with a grunt of effort, and she held onto his neck as he picked her up.

“Let's go to my place.”, he offered quietly. “You've been through something difficult...you need to rest.”

She weakly nodded, more to give an illusion of an answer than any sort of agreement. He started walking ahead, and she closed her prickly eyes, letting whatever had to happen to her, happen.

~~~~~

Very carefully, he draped the blanket over her, tucking her in solidly. She was exhausted with all this crying and running, and she needed to recover from that emotional shock. Gently, he rubbed her shoulder to soothe a fit of slight sobs, and assure her of his presence. She wasn't exactly asleep, but she needed rest anyway.

Once she had calmed down, Athanaos slowly let go, returning to his worktable to check his ingredient pots. He could make some soothing brew for her, to ease her nerves. He started working under Hermes's watchful eye, who came to get some seeds to munch on.

He had known that whatever the procession wanted couldn't be good news. Yet he wasn't sure of what had happened, and Killa was in no state to tell him. He didn't want to assume anything either, so he supposed he'd just have to wait until she was better.

When he was almost done with preparing his brew, he heard her stir in his bed. Looking in her direction, he saw she had opened her eyes. He wanted to go and talk to her, but remembering the game they were supposed to play, he quickly looked away and kept his words to himself.

“Athanaos.”

Had she just called for him? Tentatively, he looked at her, and she held his gaze.

“Athanaos, please. I need to talk.”

For her to give up on the rules she had set herself, something important must have happened. Carefully, he turned off the fire under the bubbling solution, and sat by the bed, holding the hand she held to him. Hermes perched on the headboard, looking at them with curious eyes.

“I'm here.”, he said softly. “Don't worry.”

But in the state she was in, all Killa could do was worry.

“How do you feel?”, he asked.

She looked down for a moment, as if she'd rather not answer. He wouldn't press her, then. All he did was holding her hand, keeping a light pressure around it to ground her in reality.

“It has been a rough day for you. How about you stay with me for now? I'll get you something solid to eat. And I'll listen to your worries.”

He stood up for a moment, to pour her a cup of brew while it was still hot.

“Here. Drink this, you'll feel better. It'll soothe your nerves.”

She accepted the cup, staring at the steam without saying anything. He sat at the foot of the bed, waiting for her further input to say anything else.

"...do you think...emotions are wrong?”

He looked at her, surprised by such a question.

“Emotions? How so?”

She lightly blew on her cup to make the steam swirl away, and watched it as it dissipated in the air.

“I feel like...like nothing I feel ever matters. That...no matter how much I cry, how much I refuse, things will just keep moving on.”

She took a weak sip of the herbal brew.

“So what? Does that mean nothing we feel matters at all? That in the face of reality, it's all just...decoration?”

Athanaos blinked slowly, not knowing how to answer that.

“I...I wouldn't say they're wrong. If they were, we wouldn't feel them, right?”

“It's easy to believe that. But so many things are wrong, and yet exist. Death exists, disease exists, crimes and murders exist. The Spanish threat exists. So what? Could emotions also be an evil that we're not supposed to have in the first place?”

He frowned at that reasoning.

“That's a bit extreme, don't you think? Emotions are healthy. They guide you and help you through life. They're not bad, they...well, sometimes they can go out of control, and sometimes they can hinder you, but they're nothing bad. They're human.”

“Then why are they treated like that? Why can't I be free to love you? Why can't I be free to grieve for my friend? Why can't I be free to say how unjust it all is? Why, _why_ , Athanaos?”

She hid her face again, and he stood up, holding her hand.

“I can't do this anymore!”, she continued. “I can't keep being complicit in this kind of thought! My friend, my _sister_ has been taken away as a sacrificial tribute, and I have to stand here and say nothing about it! I have to accept the fact my dearest friend is gone, and I have to be _happy_ for her! But how can I? How can they expect me to be happy without her?”

She was right about to cry again. He sat down on the bed with her, and held her cup as she fell into his arms.

“I'm tired of having to be so perfect...I'm tired of forcing myself to restrain all I feel! They expect me to be the best, and to keep my head up in every circumstances, and...and to never say anything about how cruel everything is, but I can't! I'm not a soulless stone, I can't!”

He rubbed her back lightly, as she hid her face in his shoulder.

“No one says you have to...”, he tried. “No one can be without emotions. And I'm sure they know it.”

He kissed her hair, attempting to reassure her. She stayed silent for several minutes, her breathing shaking, her body trembling. And she needed it, so he let her, contenting himself with being here for her. He needed to help her, to support her, to give her something to hold onto.

“I know I should be proud for her.”, she finally said. “I should not be so selfish. Being chosen as a tribute...it's a great honor. And it's not like they keep sacrifices a secret from us...”

She reluctantly took a sip of the drink, which had cooled a lot by now.

“But it's still very upsetting to witness. It's upsetting to know I'll never get to see her again. And no amount of pride will ever make up for it.”

“I understand what you feel.”

She looked up at him. Slowly, she moved herself to sit on his lap, in a way she has never done before. He shifted a bit to accommodate her and embrace her better, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"...is there something similar in other lands?”, she asked in a quiet voice. “Do other people also have tributes?”

He thought of it for a moment, unsure.

“I think...I think some cultures also practice ritual sacrifices. I've heard it happens in China, or in eastern Africa. But some do think it's inhumane.”

“Which ones?”

“Well...basically all of the others. Too many to name.”

She nodded slowly.

“Which one is your favorite?”

“Oh great Sages, you know I've been in too many places to choose.”, he chuckled. “There's way too much cultural elements to consider.”

“Show me, then.”

He chuckled, and thought she was referring to maps or books; he wanted to stand up to grab one, but she held him in place.

“Show me directly.”, she precised. “Let's get there.”

He blinked in surprise.

“Get there? You mean...”

“Yes.”

She sat up, and looked at him with determined red eyes.

“Let's get on a boat, and flee from here.”

In all honesty, such resolve took him by surprise, like a scorpion hidden in a cornbread bun.

“Flee? But...but I thought-”

“I thought I had duties, too. I thought I had things holding me here. But...”

She breathed in, and let out a deep sigh.

“But the more I think of it, the less I think I can handle it. I can't handle leading the Temple one day, and having to send away more young girls to their death whenever the Emperor feels like it. It's not fair for them. It's not fair...it's not fair at all.”

“But is it what you truly want? Or do you just want to run away? Killa, it's not like you to do things without thinking them through.”

He held her shoulders lightly.

“I know you're struck with grief, and that you're in a bad place right now. But please, don't do the same mistakes as I did. Don't put your life and well-being in danger just because you don't feel well. Please, let's just...think of it first, alright?”

She looked at him. The tips of her fingers trailed over his cheek, grazing lightly.

“You're so different from what I thought.”, she muttered. “A year ago, you would have been on par with me.”

“A year ago, I was immature and impulsive.”

“Aren't you still?”

“Killa, please.”

He held her close, to reassure her but mostly himself.

“We can't just leave like that. I have grown acquainted to this land. And besides, I don't think it's a good idea.”

“I can't return to the temple after leaving in such a hurry...”

“You can. But for now, you don't have to think about it.”

He grabbed the blanket, and draped it over her shoulders.

“For now, you need to rest. I'll take care of you, and make sure you're alright. Get some sleep, eat something, and when you're in a better state of mind, we'll talk about it, alright?”

She sighed, and nodded.

“You don't have to do this for me...I've caused you a lot of trouble, didn't I?”

“I love the trouble you cause me.”

That made her chuckle, and it felt like a victory of its own. He kissed her forehead, very gently, and made sure she finished her drink before she laid down again.

“I'll be right there if you need anything, alright? Please take care.”

“I know.”

She stayed silent for a moment, before looking at him again.

“Athanaos?”

“Yes?”

"...I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She smiled, and closed her eyes. Hermes looked at her, before perching on her head, and nestling in her hair.

“Good night, good night.”

“Good night indeed, friend.”

He chuckled at that lovely scene, and decided to do some cleaning around. And to think about the future, for at this point they would definitely need it.

~~~~~

“So...what do you see yourself doing, if not praying the Sun God?”

Killa shrugged, and weighed another rock in her hand.

“I'd weave clothes, I suppose.”

She tossed it in the water, and it bounced on the glittering surface once, before falling and sinking down.

“What about you? Have you found your way yet?”

Athanaos took his time to pick a flat enough stone, turning it over in his hand.

“I'm an alchemist. That's what I do.”

He squinted at the surface of the ocean, and tossed it with a knowing wrist trick, so it skipped a couple times in a neat fashion.

“I brew remedies, I help people. I pursue science.”

“That's closer to a herbalist, you know.”

“But with more excitement to it.”

The ocean washed on the rocky sand of the beach, lapping at their feet in slow waves before crashing their droplets down between the thousands of pebbles that trickled down the mountains like sweatdrops. Following his example, she picked a flat one, that has been polished by the unceasing motion of the tides over the years.

“What excitement is there in weird constructs and machines?”, she asked, tossing it between her hands.

“Weird machines? That's insulting centuries of practices and knowledge. I'm very offended, my good lady.”

“There's no offense in my words, merely the truth.”

“You say that because you still haven't figured out how to work a mechanical filter, don't you?”

She smirked, and tossed the rock even farther. It skipped a couple times, before being stopped by a wall of seafoam.

“Perhaps.”, she shrugged.

“You know what? That's fair. It'll give me the occasion to show you again.”

“You're such a show-off.”

He grinned, and tossed as far as he could, succeeding in doing several skips of his pebble.

“I might be.”

She snorted, twisting his hair around her finger in a playful manner.

“The biggest show-off in the world.”

“Why, that is I, indeed. How can I help you today?”

“You could start by using your massive show-off powers to show me how to do this thing right.”

She tossed another stone, and it sank, making him snort.

“You won't succeed with a boulder like that. Pick a flat one, they need to slide over the water.”

He did so himself, finding one that looked like a tiny plate. With another fancy twist of his hand, he managed to make it leap at least five times before it fell back into the blue depths. She whistled in admiration.

“Why, that looks like a very useful skill to have.”

“I can defend you from any fish that comes your way, my revered lady.”

“Any?”

She smirked.

“Do you mean you can defend me from...”

She leaned down, and carefully picked up a crab that had come out from beneath the sand.

“The mighty and dangerous centolla?”

Athanaos mimicked a frightened shriek.

“Not the centolla! I admit my weakness, I do!”

“Are you weak for it?”

She tried to put the wriggly, thorny crab on him, and he pretended to be scared of the otherwise peaceful beast, slapping it away with weak tiny hand slaps. She giggled at his attempts and tried to have him kiss the crab, but the game stopped when the scared animal pinched his hand. Quickly, she hit it until it gave up and returned to the ocean, and took Athanaos's hand in her own.

“Well...you did defend me.”, she admitted. “Thank you for giving your life for me, great warrior.”

It was but a harmless crab bite, but it still looked like it hurt. Athanaos feigned to be in horrible pain, and fell into her arms in a dramatic manner.

“Thus, with a pinch I die.”, he spoke out with way too much clarity for someone about to 'die'.

“Then die with honor, great warrior. I will provide you with a sumptuous grave, and beg the mercy of the Sun God on you.”

"...can't I have your life-giving kiss instead?”

Killa chuckled at his golden puppy eyes, caressing his hair as his head laid on her chest. Could he get any cuter?

“Of course, my warrior.”

He closed his eyes, and she was tempted to put some clam or wet pebble on his lips to give him a gross surprise; but she decided against it, and granted him the kiss he had desired. His lips had a lovely taste to them, and she was growing fond of it with time. How long she has dreamed of his presence next to her, where nothing could stop them from loving one another! And how good did it make her feel!

When their lips parted, she couldn't help looking at him with soft, endeared eyes. He was so precious, so happy in her arms, and she loved it. He gave her that feeling of happiness, of comfort no one else could give her. And she would never be thankful enough for it. Taken over with another impulse to cherish this little bundle of jokes and cheer, she kissed his face all over, making him giggle and squirm under her lips. His stubbly cheeks were a familiar feeling, the sharpness of his cheekbones was a familiar trail for her fingers to run over. Everything about him felt like home, and she loved it.

“Killa?”, he asked in a soft breath.

“What is it?”

Slowly, she felt his hand hold hers. She looked at him, and was met with a gentle golden gaze that washed away her fears.

“We'll do it together. We'll find a way.”

She couldn't help smiling, fascinated by his optimism. An optimism that, despite everything, she wanted to share.

“We will.”, she assured.

And, guided by the harmony of their thumping hearts and the beat of the waves on the rocks, they kissed again.

~~~~~

“What are you doing?”

He only chuckled in response, putting another board down on the sawing block.

“If we want to travel, we will need a ship.”, Athanaos explained, proceeding to cut it in half. “And since we can't find a ship anywhere in here, we need to build our own.”

She whistled, looking at the pile of wood he's already shaped into curved boards.

“Do you really think you'll be able to make a ship all by yourself?”

“Why, of course.”

He looked at the large serrated knife he was using as a saw.

“Well. It'll take a while, but that's no problem. The sooner we start, the sooner we'll be able to leave.”

“That sounds like a big task...I believe we will be safer on land routes.”

“For a time, yes. But we won't be able to get very far. Whereas I have experience with navigation, I know how to sail and how to find my way on the seas.”

Killa showed her teeth in doubt.

“Well...if you believe you can do it, I trust you.”

“Do you really?”

She took a moment before replying.

“I suppose that I'm still not too at ease with the idea of leaving. I'd be letting everyone down...”

“It's alright. You don't have to make that choice yet. But just in case, it's best to have a boat ready when we feel like leaving, you know?”

He resumed sawing.

“Plus, it gives me something to do. Something productive.”

She had to admit he wasn't wrong. Seeing he had a bit of trouble, she moved to grab the board and hold it tight so he could cut through it.

“Do you not have fun anymore doing your alchemy studies?”

“I do, but I can only do so much with what I have. I'd rather spend my time doing something helpful.”

He smiled at her between two seesaws.

“Like helping the two of us build our life together.”

That got a chuckle out of her.

“I thought you were building a boat?”

“More or less. When you're a sailor, your life and your ship become one and the same.”

She smiled, but he could tell something was worrying her. Once the board cut, he put it with the others, and read over his blueprints again.

“Does that mean we'll live in it?”, she asked, curious.

“If we end up traveling a lot, we might. But don't worry, it's very nice once you're used to it.”

“I have never set foot on a fishing boat; so, a ship? You have to be kidding me.”

“I will teach you.”

He touched to her chin, fingers lightly coated in sawdust.

“I'll teach you how to sail, how to maneuver. And in no doubt you'll become an excellent seafarer.”

“Oh, please. That's your role.”

“Not exactly. We choose our own roles from now on, remember?”

She chuckled.

“Our own roles.”

She looked at the blueprints as well, then at the ocean in the distance.

“No one will be able to stop us. We'll carve our own paths.”

“We'll go wherever we want.”

“And we'll see all this world has to offer.”

“And maybe more!”

He stood next to her, to see what she was seeing, to gaze at the horizon with the same dreamy feeling as she did. To share her world once again, for another moment.

“You know...”, she thought out. “You're basically building our future home, now.”

“Am I?”

Without they set their eyes away from the ocean, their hands slowly joined, fingers intertwining.

“It looks like it.”

“Then...I suppose I am, indeed.”

Her hand was soft against his palm, so soft against his own. It made him all fuzzy again.

“Do you want to...to keep thinking about it, before we continue with it?”, he asked.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does. You said you didn't want to be a victim of your own fate anymore. That you want to make active choices. So...”

His grip slightly tightened.

“If you want we continue down this path, I want you to tell me so. So I know it's what you want.”

She didn't answer. Instead, her other hand reached down her collar, and picked out the little sun disk she kept around her neck. She handed it to him, and he reached for it; but her hand closed around it, and she put it back in its pouch with a smile.

He smiled as well. No words were needed between them, after all.

“Very well. But you help me build that boat, then.”

“I don't trust you one second with weaving sails and ropes.”

“And I'm glad you don't.”

He snorted at that sentence without sense. But despite his amusement, the idea seemed adorable. Not only would he have a ship of his own; but he'd build it with the woman he loved, like a testimony of their world-defying relationship. And it only added fire to his determination.

Soon they would set sail. Soon he would show her the whole extent of his world. Soon, very soon, he just needed to be patient.

Soon, he would find his home.

~~~~~

“You won't get to catch me!”

She ran between the trees, as fast as a gust of wind. She knew the terrain only too well, and had no trouble slipping between bushes and branches to evade him even further.

“That's what you think!”

He leaped over a rock, trying to cut her path, but she stepped aside at the last second to run in another direction. No matter what he tried, Killa was still an evasive wind spirit, a nymph he would never get to catch. Someone out of this world.

He tripped on a root, and fell in the grass, making her giggle lightly. How funny he was when he tried to be serious!

“Do you need a hand, my good hunter?”

“I need no pity from a gracious vicuña like you!”

She laughed some more, flattered to be compared with a royal animal, and bowed to him as he stood up. Then, before he could get back on his feet, she darted away again, towards the grassy plains. In a huffed breath, he followed behind, still trying to tag her.

Why did they start playing like little children again? Neither of them knew. And they didn't care either, for they were doing what they wanted, without anyone to judge them. They were having fun, alone in the grassy hills, as night was falling and the town below was falling asleep. Imbued with freedom and a liberating youthfulness, they've given in to their childish impulses under the cover of the stars. And no one could blame them or scold them, or order them to stop. It was their choice, and they loved every second of it.

Athanaos made a run for it to catch her; or rather, a leap for it. Grabbing onto her loose sleeve, he managed to catch her, stopping her in her momentum, and she yelped as she almost fell. He looked at her with triumphant eyes, panting a chuckle.

“Got you.”

“I admit. You got me.”

She smiled, catching her breath as he let go. All this chasing had made her quite tired, to say the least.

“Is that all you got?”, she teased anyway. “I thought you were faster than that.”

“I can be when the situation requires it. Why, do you doubt my ability, noble gazelle?”

She had no idea of what a gazelle was, but overlooked it.

“I doubt it.”

He scoffed, and stepped away from her.

“Then show me yours! Catch me if you can!”

And he ran towards the plains. She pouted in offense, and ran after him to catch his smug little face.

“You will not escape me forever!”

“Are you doubting my abilities?”

“I do!”

She tried to dash after him, her own lungs feeling the burn of all that running they did. How exhausting! Would she never be able to catch up with him indeed? No, she didn't need to put herself down so soon. She'd show him what she was able of!

As if feeling her fatigue, he started slowing down, to give her a chance. But that was a terrible mistake: using it to her advantage, she sprinted after him, and pounced so hard into him that they both fell in the grass. It hurt in the moment, but when they looked at each other, the ridiculousness of their situation hit and they both started laughing.

She was laying on top of him, pinning down his back; but suddenly, he rolled around, and successfully trapped her in his limbs like a bird in a cage. All escape was cut now; but strangely, she didn't feel like moving at all. Not when she had such a beautiful view right above her.

"...hello there, my gazelle.”, she smiled. “See, I did catch you.”

“Perhaps.”

His knees tightened and her legs got trapped.

“But now I have you in my grasp.”

With a tone this seductive, she could not help blushing. She definitely was too weak when it came to the effect Athanaos could have on her.

“What about you, then? Do you...like the view?”

She exposed her neck some, like she's seen Athanaos do sometimes. That definitely made him chuckle.

“Oh, I love it. It's a delightful view.”

And he kissed the side of her neck, making her giggle. He knew she was ticklish, that fiend! She squirmed in his grasp, smiling anyway at how fuzzy she felt.

“Stop it~”, she squealed. “That should be illegal!”

“Your beauty is what should be illegal.”

His lips trailed up to her ear, making her laugh some more. She would not last long! Not with his lips so soft, his breath so warm...his body so heavy, so real over hers. They were still panting and sweating from their chase, and while it was slightly gross, it also made her feel...very strange. A kind of strange she's never felt before, and that intrigued her more than ever. A pleasing feeling coursed through her body, making her shudder lightly as he kept kissing up and down her neck, offering her a world of delight she had never known before. She wanted him to get closer, she wanted him to lead his lips even lower, to kiss each and everyone of her goosebumps.

She wasn't clueless. She's heard of the things that weren't supposed to be spoken of by respectable maidens. She knew what was done to brides and sometimes servants, and even though she had a bit of a hard time figuring out the details, she knew it could happen to her. And in moments like these, she thought that maybe, she _did_ want it to happen to her. When Athanaos was so close to her like this, it made her think of very obscene things, of all sorts of fantasies that made her cheeks turn a deep red, and wonder what was wrong with her. Did she really feel for him this way? And what about him? Would he ever agree to take part in such...such... _manners_?

She didn't know how these things were done. She didn't know anything. And besides, she wasn't sure she was ready for it. Perhaps that explained why he stopped after a time, feeling her unease.

“Do you want I stop?”, he asked quietly.

She looked away for a moment, obviously flustered. And after a time, she nodded. It was definitely a bit much, and it could escalate. He nodded in turn, and stood off her, letting her move again.

“Do you...do you think that someday, we could…?”

His question made her cheeks even darker, and her eyes turn away even more. Obviously that set some awkwardness between the two of them, and he didn't look quite at ease either. Luckily, something came up to relieve that tension.

“Oh, you've dropped your shoe.”

She looked down, and saw that indeed, her right foot was bare. Perhaps her shoe slipped up when she pounced him. She stood up, looking around, but Athanaos was faster.

“Here, I got it.”

He picked up her shoe, and knelt down before her to put it back on. But before he could do that, Killa suddenly gasped and withdrew her foot. Surprised, Athanaos looked up.

“What's the matter?”

“You...you were _not_ just about to do that, were you!?”

He quirked a brow, looking at the shoe. As if _that's_ where the problem lied!

“Do you...do you really have no idea?”

“I...no? Is there something on your foot? I don't...”

She looked at him, still shocked. And sighed.

“You don't know, do you...”

She sat down in the grass.

“When a man puts a shoe on a woman's right foot, it means...”

She looked away a little, not knowing how to word it.

“It's...it's a sacred thing, that's all. A promise he makes to her.”

“What sort of promise?”

She looked at him with insistence. And slowly, he seemed to get it.

"...oh.”

His cheeks tainted with pink, as he looked down at her shoe like it had suddenly turned into gold.

"...oh! I-I mean...it wasn't my intention to...oh great Sages, that would have been...”

He chuckled nervously.

“We're...we're definitely not _there_ yet, are we?”

She smiled at that, but the question genuinely made her ask herself. Were they _there_ yet? Were they ready for the next step? Were they ready to enter the true domestic life?

Were they ready to get married?

Athanaos looked down, unsure of himself. Seems like her unease was mutual. Then, like a child caught stealing something, he slowly handed it back to her. Killa reached out for it; but in a sudden thought, she stopped her hand.

They did think about getting married before, but it's always been a what if, a dreamy idea more than anything real. And now that they were faced with a real chance, she didn't know what to think. For a moment, all her fears about married life came to her in a breath of anxiety, causing her to second-doubt herself. But her eyes went from the shoe to the face of the man holding it, and her worries quieted down a little, replaced with endearment. It wouldn't be a bad thing, she thought. She would definitely rather marry him than anyone else she would once have considered.

In her culture, there was no concept of courtship. Everything was arranged, every union was decided by parents and elders. And if the spouses weren't satisfied, they could wait some years and go their separate ways again. But as far as she knew, no one ever married out of their own volition. No one ever married because they wanted to, but because they _had_ to.

Killa was a maiden of the Sun, meant to stay one until her death. Athanaos was a foreigner, who wasn't invited to join in this land's customs. Neither of them were in the obligation to marry...but if they did, it would be their decision. Their choice.

Their path.

"...Athanaos?”

“What is it?”

He looked as deep in thought as she was. Perhaps similar questions were running through his mind in that very moment. She wasn't sure what to say, what to ask, or even what to think, for everything seemed so fast and out of the blue. Such an impromptu proposal would have scared braver ones than them...but it's not like they've never thought about it before, was it? She saw the way his hands were delicately holding her shoe, the slight anxiety that curled his fingers. She met his eyes again, and they were full of softness and love.

She smiled. Then, slowly, she pushed his hand away.

“My shoe's off. Would you like to...put it back on, please?”

He blinked, looking at her with surprise. And then, his face seemed to light up as his worries washed away.

“With great pleasure.”

He cupped her foot with reverence, and delicately slipped her shoe back on.

She then invited him to stand up, and embraced him tightly.

“We really are carving our own path now, aren't we?”

“I'm glad to say we are.”

She smiled, kissing his neck tenderly. He smirked in return, and suddenly picked her up, carrying her like a newlywed bride.

“I'm sorry I don't have a big home I can carry you to. But as soon as our ship is built, you won't have to worry about it.”

“We'll let the wind guide our sails, onto a new future.”

“Exactly!”

And with a laugh, he started spinning her around. She laughed in turn, holding onto him tight.

“And I can't wait for it!”

“For the adventure of our lives!!”

Their lips met again in the middle of a spin, and she knew she would feel dizzy from it. But she didn't care. Why bother caring about such things, when she had all of the future to think about?

That night, as he slowly carried her down the hill to his home, to _their_ home, she felt the happiest she's ever been in her entire life. And she loved every moment of it.

~~~~~

“Can you hand me some more rope?”

“Coming.”

Athanaos's wife tossed him a coil of freshly-braided rope, which he managed to catch without falling from the ladder.

“Thanks, treasure.”

He grabbed the ends of two wooden poles, and tied them tightly together to form a solid frame.

“Do you need more reed?”

“I'm good for now. But let's stock up if we can, we'll still need to cover the deck.”

“I might need to go get some more.”

Killa's husband carefully made his way down to the ground, to read the blueprints again. Thanks to the corrections she brought, the ship would without a doubt be built a bit faster, and use less resources than he'd thought. That was indeed a good thing, for he wasn't sure he would have been able to build a whole caravelle all by himself. And yet they were making progress! He just had to look at the boat frame they've put together in just two weeks to see it.

It wouldn't be a very big ship, since they wouldn't need a crew to sail it. But it would be a sturdy one, for they planned to take it over to the high seas. A vessel of adventure, a little nest where the two of them could live comfortably until they felt nostalgic about solid land again.

He had so many projects for it! For instance, he's thought of using the power of steam to make it move on its own, without sails or oars; it would be complicated to put together, but feasible! He would find a way! But Killa preferred to make some sails anyway; not that she doubted him, but she was the kind to rely on safer values. And he didn't mind at all: it would likely save them in the long run.

They would live so many adventures together, on this ship of dreams. And he couldn't wait.

“It's looking pretty nice so far, doesn't it?”, he asked, sitting down.

“It does. But that's just the beginning.”

To not rouse suspicion from anyone, they've decided to build it in a vacant field outside of the village, where no one was coming anymore following last summer's bad harvest. It would only take a bit of ropework down a slight slope to lead it to the ocean once it was done; from there, they had a nice view of the rocky beach where they'd go to skip stones. In the distance, they could see the stone houses of the village, and the grassy hills even further. The land they both called home, and that rejected the both of them.

“I've seen Chami in town today.”, she said as they were eating the cornbread she brought. “And she didn't seem very happy with me. Since I've gone, I bet they imagine all sorts of nasty things now.”

“Let them. Whatever they think can't hurt you.”

“Maybe...but it's still difficult to accept I'm not part of Inti's worship anymore. It's hard to imagine such a concept!”

She sighed.

“I can't help but think this will bring bad luck onto us. I have this...this presentment.”

“Presentment?”

Athanaos wasn't a very superstitious man. But still, all these talks of good luck and bad luck would send some chills down his spine if he were to pay a bit too much attention to them.

“Do you...do you want to return to how things were before?”, he offered. “I'm sure the maidens would gladly accept you back...”

She shook her head.

“I made my choice. I want to stay with you, and to go all the way with your help. I will not stay idle to my own destiny anymore.”

He knew how hard it was for her to make such a decision. He draped his arm around her waist, and she leaned against him.

“Then I'll support you. I'll make sure you don't regret it, ever.”

“Thank you so much.”

Her lips gently grazed his neck, like a tickling caress that made him smile.

“Know that I don't regret it at all. You're a thoughtful man, and a caring one. I could never have expected such kindness from anyone else.”

“That's a bit much to say, don't you think?”

“I'm afraid I'm serious.”

Her face rested in his neck, as his hand trailed up to caress her hair. How he loved to comb it in the morning, when she was still tired from waking up and her sleepy eyes were but moon crescents!

“Well, if that's what you think of me, I'll have to be worth it. I'll give you the best I can give you.”

“You're already doing great at it.”

“But I can give you so much more!”

He kissed her forehead, in a thrust of affection.

“I could give you rare jewels. Fine shawls of vicuña wool. Feathers of birds that don't even exist on this continent!”

“Athanaos.”

“Bracelets of opals from the Aboriginal islands?”

“Naooooos.”

“What? Is that not enough for you? Because you know I'd be able to leap into an active volcano to bring you back the finest pieces of obsidian glass for you to make shoes of!”

“Naos, please! You know I don't need any of these things!”

She laughed at his increasingly stupid enumerations of material riches, holding onto him tighter.

“No?”, he asked, stunned. “But then, what do you need?”

She feigned to think about it.

“Well...I would love to have some cotton cloth, to make you some clothes with.”

“That's a little low, don't you think? You deserve better than mere household tasks.”

“I don't know. I'm fine with the idea.”

She chuckled, gazing at the ocean.

“I'd sew you some sturdy clothes as you sail our ship on an uncaring sea. I'd make sure the ropes and reeds are in good condition as you chart our next route. And once you teach me the art of sailing, I'll take over navigation at night so you can rest.”

Her hand found a way around his'.

“We'll be an unstoppable crew.”, he smiled. “Traveling the seas, without anything to hold us back. It'll be just you and I.”

“Just you and I.”

She nodded, happy with that idea. Just the two of them, their ship, and the seas all around.

But then...a little voice of doubt whispered in his ear a question he hadn't pondered yet. And it made him think for a moment, as he gazed ahead at the water lapping the rocks with its seafoam droplets. He glanced at her, and noticed her brow was creased with a slight thoughtful frown.

“Killa?”

She turned to him.

“I...I know it seems like a strange question, but...”

Oh dear. He would not find the right words, would he? It'll just make things so much more awkward…

"...but?”

“But...do you think that...it's just theoretical, of course, and in no way a genuine demand...but, would you like that...that someday, you and I...”

He took a deep breath.

“Would you like that you and I get some...company?”

She raised a brow at him.

"...company?”

"...company.”

He definitely chose the wrong words, didn't he? She didn't seem to get it.

“You...would like to keep Hermes as a pet?”

“What? No, no, I mean- he's fine where he is now, it's...”

His face was getting heated, and he looked away.

"...forget it. I think it's still too early to think of that...and besides! We should enjoy our current life as it is now. The high sea life won't be too easy at first, and we'll have to get used to it again. Let's not...let's not add anything to the mix just yet. It's safer.”

She looked at him intensely, then smiled.

“I didn't know that side of you before.”

Uh oh.

“That side? What side?”, he vigorously denied.

“Oh, you know what I'm talking about, Lord Let's-Get-Some-Company.”

“No I don't.”

“Yes you do.”

“Nnnnnno I don't.”

She poked his cheek, and he stubbornly looked away, flustered. It was hard to resist bursting into laughter when she had such tickly fingers!

“Come oooon, admit it! You're just a softie deep in your core.”

“I don't see what you mean.”

“A big softie with airs of tough sailor! That's what you are.”

“I furiously refuse to give any way to such accusations!”

She grinned, and before he could know it, she had him basically pinned down into the grass.

“Oh, those are _far_ from being just accusations, Naos. This is the truth.”

She gently kissed his nose.

“And the truth is that I married a loving man, with a heart like sweet honey.”

“Alright, now you're just flattering me.”

“I might be.”

She booped his nose.

“What will you do about it?”

“Hmm...perhaps, this?”

He cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her deeply. The gesture surprised her, making her squeak, but very soon she leaned into it. She even led the way, drawing more sounds out of him, her hands going down his body to make him squirm and flush up. And maybe it was the heat of the moment, the push of repressed needs or the sheer desire of getting even closer to her, but such a touch didn't leave him unfazed at all. Confused, she looked down at him, and met his just as flustered gaze that escaped her. Silence reigned for a few seconds, during which she could feel just how warm his body was under her hands.

There was nothing around them but the sounds of the ocean, the rustle of tall grass and the caress of the wind. Driven by that feeling she knew was mutual, she joined their embrace and kissed him once again, letting her body relax as he returned her affections. It was a moment where nothing seemed to matter anymore, where all notions of common sense would flee their minds, leaving only their basic human instincts to lead them. All it took was a softened glance, a delicate touch, a complicit nod, for the two of them to take this new step into the unknown. And for a time, nothing would matter in the world but the two of them, right here and right now.

~~~~~

With the arrival of winter, the construction of the ship had to slow down, since materials were hard to come by. But the two of them would eagerly talk of their many plans to set sail as soon as they could, and it was perhaps their favorite conversation topic.

For they had to admit, it was becoming hard to get anyone else to talk to them. It surprised Killa the most, for she was used to being met with politeness wherever she went; now it was barely if anyone accepted to look her in the eye. She knew that her sudden disappearance from the Temple of the Sun would have raised some questions, but never would she have thought she'd be met with such indifference and cold shoulders. And to be fair, while she was quite tough-skinned, it did hurt her sensitivity more than once.

She wasn't sure of what to do about it. She didn't want to confront people about it, yet she knew she had to say something and step her foot down. However she was definitely confused about what to do. Was it worth asking respect from people she was going to leave soon? Was it worth trying to reconcile if she would never see them again either way? Athanaos told her she was worrying over nothing, that they wouldn't feel that way forever. And she had no choice but to agree, for there was nothing else she could do.

It was becoming quite cold around these parts. The cool mountain air was coming down to them, and rains were becoming more frequent. It would be another bad year for harvests, she figured, and she didn't want to stay there much longer.

She didn't want to hear that another one of her little sisters had to be taken away.

She tightened her cape around her shoulders as she walked through the tall grass, her feet soon touching to the little gravel path that led to their home. The sight of the little wooden cabin filled her heart with happiness, for she knew that was the only place she'd get to find rest and comfort.

The scent of boiling plants welcomed her as she entered, bringing some warmth to her face and some flowers to her nose. Athanaos was sitting at his desk, checking the recipe in his book, yet stood up and embraced her when she came.

“Did you have a good walk, my love?”

“It could have been better, but thank you for worrying.”

She kissed his nose, and sat on the bed, watching him. They've only started sharing a bed recently, when the weather had become so cold that sleeping each on their own didn't sound very reasonable anymore. And while the concept was strange, she liked it, even though she still wasn't too used to it.

“What are you making today?”

“Well, you did mention your strains of fatigue, with winter coming up. So I was thinking of brewing something to give you some more energy.”

“You're so thoughtful of me.”, she smiled. “I don't deserve you.”

He chuckled, pouring her a cup of medicine, and sitting next to her to hand it over.

“But you do.”

“Oh well, if you insist.”

It tasted like agave. She sipped it thoughtfully, contemplating the tapestry on the wall as she did.

“So when do you think we'll be able to resume construction?”, she asked after a moment.

“Are you that eager to leave?”

She didn't answer, still looking ahead.

“We have to wait until the weather's a bit more gentle.”, he continued. “And for more reed to grow. If we had less rain, perhaps we could already do more progress.”

Slowly, her fingers reached into the pouch at her neck, taking out the sun disk to look at it.

“I thought Atlanteans could control the sun?”, she asked.

“Well...in theory, yes. But don't ask me. It's been way too long since I last did it...I think this power is gone by now.”

“It doesn't hurt to try.”

He snorted at that.

“I'll look stupid if it doesn't work.”

“No one but me will see you.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn't reject the idea.

“Very well, then. Let's see it in action, shall we?”

He offered his hand, and she accepted it, before following him outside.

The rain had started to fall, pitter-patting on roads and roofs and trees, covering her in a veil of fresh humidity that soon became annoying wetness. Her clothes felt soaked only thinking of it, and she hid a little more in Athanaos's arm.

“Well...here goes nothing.”

He stepped forward, and raised one arm to the pouring sky, as if wanting to reach out to it.

And then, he shouted.

“Helios! Life-giving star, a child of Atlantis commands you! Descend from the skies at once, and shine your rays over this earth once again!”

His voice was so loud, it echoed between the hills like a command. It was easy to believe that with such confidence, this strategy would work. And yet, all Athanaos did was managing to make himself look ridiculous, and still drenched with rain.

Killa quirked a frowning brow.

“Well, if you speak to the sun in that tone, no wonder it refuses to listen.”

He lowered his arm in annoyance at his failure.

“Well, how would _you_ do it, dear maiden of Inti?”, he sneered.

She looked up at the sky, watching the clouds rain their water over the land. Then, slowly, she knelt down and joined her hands together.

“Mighty Sun, you who gives life to this earth and bless it with your warmth. Listen to my prayer. Please, let the clouds disappear and the rain cease, and make your light shine through the darkness.”

Once a maiden, always a maiden. Athanaos looked at her with a raised brow, then up at the sky. She knew it wouldn't work, she had no sort of power over the sun, and it was blasphemy to think that anyone could. Well, blasphemy _or_ Athanaos's way of thought.

"...wait.”

She looked up at his word, and saw the clouds begin to clear up. The rain was thinning out, and quieting down. Now it was but a light drizzle that was gracefully falling down onto the land, bringing freshness and peace. And indeed, a few rays of cold sun were peeking out from the clouds.

“Oh...mighty Coyolite above, it worked! You did it!”

“I did nothing.”, she said, standing up. “It's all about showing respect.”

“Well, you respected it quite well. I'm impressed.”

He bowed to her like she did something impressive. She chuckled, and returned that bow, but suddenly stopped with a sound of pain.

"...what is it?”, he asked in worry.

“Nothing, nothing.”

She rubbed her stomach, where it had hurt for a moment.

“I must be getting old if my muscles can't handle a mere bow.”, she joked.

“You should get some rest, while the rain finishes up disappearing.”

He cupped her cheek lightly, out of worry. But that's when she noticed he was staring at something on her face.

"Were your eyes always this...shiny?”

She blinked in confusion.

“My eyes are not shiny. Maybe that's just the light.”

“No, I mean...I know you have gray eyes. But now they...they almost look golden.”

“You mean...like yours?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he took her hand, and led her back inside the house, to show her a little mirror. Killa looked at her befuddled reflection for a moment; and that's where she saw that indeed, her eyes now had a hint of pale gold to them.

"...now that definitely is strange.”, she said, putting the mirror down. “I know what color my eyes are, I mean!”

“We should be careful, perhaps it's some sign of sickness...”

He thought for a moment.

“That'd explain why you have trouble sleeping. And your gut pains.”

“Naos, I'm fine. You know I'd tell you if there was anything out of the ordinary, right?”

“I know.”

He held her hands.

“But I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.”

“That's very nice of you. But please, trust me a little more, alright?”

"...alright.”

She smiled, and embraced him tight. She knew things would turn out to be alright, that it was nothing to worry about. Not when she had such a kind and caring husband to watch over her.

She didn't know whether it was love, the medicine or something entirely else; but later that day, as the sun eventually came back, she noticed a strange warmth building up in her stomach.

~~~~~

Athanaos had quickly picked up on how cheerful his wife seemed to be. He had attributed it to the return of a somewhat good weather, and to the advancement of the ship which now had a solid hull. But as more time passed, he definitely thought that something was up with her.

For starters, she was really into sewing these days. She'd spend hours carefully weaving threads together and knitting intricate patterns, but whenever he tried to look at them she hid them from his view and claimed they were a surprise. But he already had enough clothes to go by, so he couldn't help wondering what that was all about.

Then, she became much more bashful than she already was. She didn't feel like sleeping in the same bed as him anymore, and seemed generally much more self-conscious, to the point she would get very angry if he dared glancing at her while she was getting dressed. He didn't mind that, he knew she still had some trouble getting used to married life; and even though it has been a bit more than half a year since their marriage, she still deserved privacy as much as anyone else. So he gave her all the accommodations she asked for, never complaining.

She looked in good health, yet she would sometimes show some odd symptoms he didn't understand. She would get tired very often, complain of stomach pains even though her diet hasn't changed, and her mood would sometimes worsen in sudden swings. He'd try to be present for her everytime she needed, and she'd insist she was fine on her own, but sometimes she would be lying so obviously that he had no choice but to force her to rest or take her medicine. And she'd comply without entrain, to not worry him further.

Despite her condition, she still insisted to help him with the ship's construction. She'd gather materials to build the parts with, weave together ropes and sails, help him carry heavier pieces and take care of the tools' upkeep. Together, they've done a lot of progress over the past few months, and without doubt they'd be able to sail away when summer comes.

However, he didn't understand why she insisted on adding some changes to the ship's original blueprints. For instance, why did she insist to make the deck fences more packed together, like the bars of a cage? It didn't bring anything aesthetic. And why did she want to add more room space? They'd have all they needed for the two of them already. He was persuaded she had something she wasn't telling him, and he couldn't guess why. But considering her health, he didn't want to pry too deep into it. He knew she'd tell him, or perhaps reveal it was but a whim of hers. Whatever was the case, he respected her demands and made the adjustments she wanted. She was sick, and needed to be indulged. And he figured it made her happy, so why not?

He loved making her happy. To see her smile was his greatest pride, and he loved every moment of it. Even if she was often getting moody and sick, her cheerful times would illuminate his day like a ray of warm sun after the rain. She was his little wife, and he wanted to please her and pamper her like nothing else mattered in the world. She was going through a rough phase, and she needed support and love.

Everything would go well. And everything was going well, indeed. Until one day where he finally realized.

One evening, she presented him with a gift, in the form of a wrapped bundle.

“What occasion are we celebrating?”, he asked, amused and confused at the same time. “I haven't planned a gift for you.”

“None in particular, don't worry about it. But I think it is time I told you something.”

He didn't really understand, to which she invited him to open the bundle. And when he did, what he found inside surprised him.

There were clothes: very tiny clothes, of fine cotton and intricate patterns. Some sort of small woven basket and blankets. And Athanaos didn't really understand what it was all about, until he saw what looked very well like a little doll.

It was an adorable doll of carved wood, representing a little Inca girl. It had hair of wool threads and tiny knitted clothes, and its eyes were dark round pebbles.

He held it in his hands, looked at the fine carving marks that have shaped its tiny body over what must have been hours of work, ran his fingers over the thick locks of brown hair. Slowly the clothes, the cradle, his wife's happiness all started to make sense. He looked at her, and she smiled in return, before taking one of his hands and gently leading it to rest on her stomach.

His eyes opened wide, and that's when he understood at last.

“Isn't it fantastic?”, she asked with a big smile. “Soon you and I will have some company at last.”

His hand caressed her stomach, feeling just how round her belly had gotten. How had he not noticed it? He felt so stupid right now...but that feeling quickly passed, overcome with a felicity that started to bubble right out of him, as he realized all the implications of that revelation.

He looked at her, his smile wide and his eyes almost teary; and a second later, he was holding her tightly in his arms, laughing in happiness. And she returned his laughter, holding him right back in turn.

He couldn't believe it. He was going to be a father!

~~~~~

The starry sky was peaceful above the grassy hills. The wind was warm and gentle, bringing the soft touch of spring over the land. Flowers were blooming, animals were frolicking, and everything was starting to grow again. Nature was taking over, and there was no stopping it.

Killa's eyes were navigating through the stars like a black, shimmering sea, watching and recognizing the constellations she has watched for years now. She felt proud whenever she could name one and use it to say what latitude they were in, like a true sailor.

“Is that true that there are other constellations than those, in other parts of the world?”

“There are.”, Athanaos replied, caressing her hair. “If we go up north, I can show you their names.”

Her head was resting on his lap, her hands idly caressing her growing belly. Under her touch, she could feel the faint squirming of the baby, who was starting to get quite lively. This feeling was still very foreign to her, but all it took was a little kick or a pat for her to feel the happiest she's ever been. The prospect of bearing life inside of her was something sacred, a blessing from the gods, and she couldn't wait until it was time to let it into the world.

“What sort of names?”

“Hmm...there's Cetus, the whale. Andromeda, the captive woman. Pegasus, the winged horse.”

“Those are strange names.”

“I didn't decide of them.”

His hand carefully trailed down, to touch to her own, and rest on the obvious bump in her clothing.

“You know there's a name you have the occasion to decide on, now.”

“I know. And to be fair, I hesitate.”

She chuckled.

“What are Atlantean names like?”

“To be honest...I'm not sure. They've been lost to time, or assimilated into other languages. Or just plain ridiculous.”

“Did that sentence really come from the mouth of someone named Athanaos?”

“Oh, don't start with that again, Moony.”

He booped her nose, making her giggle.

“What about you? Do you have any ideas?”

“Some, indeed.”

She caressed her stomach again, thoughtfully. Thinking of a certain someone she knew, and had watched over for so long. A girl she had loved like a sister.

“Especially if the baby's a girl.”

He nodded, understanding where she was going.

“And what if it's a boy?”

“I don't know of many boy names. Do you have any?”

He shrugged.

“I only know the names of villagers. And I don't feel like naming our child after them.”

“I whole-heartedly agree. They're starting to get much meaner for no reason, and there's no way I'm giving them any recognition now. The village elder isn't even hiding her hatred for me, now.”

He looked up at the sky, thoughtfully.

“Though...I guess I have one I like.”

“Go ahead.”

“During my travel to the Mayan lands, I met a sweet little child. His mother's the one who made the quilt blanket. His name was Wayra.”

Killa looked thoughtful.

“Wayra. I like that name, it sounds like a breeze.”

“It does. So...Wayra if we have a boy, Sumailla if we have a girl.”

“What if our child is neither?”

“Oh, right. Well...we could name them after a flower, an animal. Something from nature.”

She looked up at the sky.

“A constellation?”

“We could do that! Can you imagine having a little toddler named Phoenix or Aries? That would be amazing!”

“On second thought, I think I will do the naming myself.”

He pouted at her, and she chuckled at his cute face. He was so adorable when he gave himself the occasion.

“But it doesn't matter what we name them. Because either way, it will be a truly blessed moment. I can't wait!”

“Neither can I...”

He let out a sigh.

“But still, I can't help worrying.”

“Worrying?”

She sat up a bit, to look at him. He was looking thoughtful again, likely reminiscing on some bad memory.

“Are you afraid of what people will say?”

“Well, we have to face the facts. The people here don't see me with a kind eye...so what tells me it'll be any different for them?”

She looked away, trying to dismiss his doubts. But she couldn't ignore all the whispers and mutters the two of them would be subjected to whenever they'd meet with other people. Was it really a life to give a child? Could they raise their baby in shame, teach them to flee the eyes of others, bear to see them making no friends and being bullied wherever they went? The thought tore at her heart, but she tried to chase it away.

“You know people would never do that. I wouldn't let it happen.”

She held his hand tight. She knew how stubborn her people could be. But despite that, she tried to be optimistic.

“If you give them time, they will see how good of a person you are. They will see you just as I do. And all of this talk will cease, and we'll have a normal life.”

He smiled, a sad but endeared smile. Slowly, he kissed her fingers, letting her hand cup his cheek.

“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you, my love.”

“Well, first of all, you conveniently forgot all your sailing experience when faced with a completely harmless coast. Then you bounced on it like it was no big deal, and pretended you were fine ever since. And all I did was making sure you were.”

He scoffed at the lengthy enumeration of stupid things he did that followed. Summarizing everything to consequences of his one and only shipwreck wasn't perhaps the best way to go, but at least there were no more mentions of fate.

“Well, I suppose I do have a strange way to get around the world. But don't go believing my experience has left me, on the contrary!”

He thought about their ship, their future home. The journey they would go through, the places they'd see.

“You'll see, treasure; I will show you everything there is to see!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

She loved the way his eyes got so dreamy and sparkly whenever he told stories of his travels. Her fingers trailed over his traits, that excitment seemed to make younger by several years.

“I can't wait to show you all I've seen during my journeys. The beautiful mounds of China! The mirror lakes of the north! The impressive Hindu temples and their statues!”

“Come on, don't spoil the surprise!”, she chuckled, patting his face. “You know I can wait, my love. After all, I am already waiting for Wayra's arrival.”

She touched to her stomach. As much as she wanted a little girl, she had a slight, purely motherly feeling that her wish wouldn't be granted.

“I know. And don't think for one second that I won't show him all these wonders too. As soon as he's here, the three of us will embark, on to a new life.”

“As soon as he's here?”

Would she be able to take to the seas, with a body weakened by pregnancy and a fragile newborn to take care of? She bit her lip in hesitation.

“That would be a little risky... Couldn't we stay here for a time, and save the adventure for a little later?”

"...I knew you would say that.”

She sat up with a bit of difficulty, and looked at his evasive face. She knew he wanted to leave as soon as possible, and every delay would be a new problem. It was obvious he didn't want to stay somewhere he was hated and feared. She felt guilty for it, she couldn't help it.

“Are you mad at me?”, she asked in a quiet voice.

He looked at her, and only now seemed to realize the rudeness of his words.

“No, not at all, my dearest!”

He hurriedly took her hands in his own, caressing them.

“I would never resent you for anything. Not after everything you gave me.”

She smiled, letting him kiss her fingers. Then, she held him in a gentle embrace, feeling the warmth of his body envelop hers. Feeling a little squished, the baby gave a weak kick, prompting them to part the hug; but she kept a hold of his hands, and made him look at her.

“I'd give you so much more. You know I would give my life for you if it means we can stay together.”

She didn't know why she said that; but in that moment, she was genuinely meaning it. Perhaps a bit of solemnity wouldn't hurt.

He didn't answer, maybe because there was no need to. So he just took her in his arms, and they resumed watching the stars together.

~~~~~

Summer came, bringing some warmth back to the land. Harvests were meager, barely bigger than last year's, but so far no news of famine have been brought over, which managed to keep everyone's hopes up. The ship was almost finished, and Athanaos was as excited as could be about this beautiful hybrid of Inca and European marine architecture, that only wanted to set sail on the great blue of the ocean. But sadly, its construction had to be halted at the last minute; for one day, without warning, Killa's labor started.

And her husband couldn't be more worried than now. In great distress, he had managed to bring her to the village, under the befuddled prying eyes of everyone, to beg for the help of the healer women who knew about childbirth. Needless to say that by the time they finally consented to help, labor had already progressed, and pretty much the whole village was aware of the fate of the treacherous, disloyal maiden of the sun and the evil, preying foreigner that seduced her. He wanted to be with her, to support her as she toiled, but the healer women denied him that right, forcing him to stay outside to be judged by everyone who'd set eyes on him. To listen to the pained cries of his wife, as she'd bring their child into the world.

And he felt horrible about it. For having caused this to her, for having her endure such pain and humiliation, and for being unable to be with her when she needed him.

He didn't listen to what they said. He didn't listen to anything they threw at his face like venom. For now, he only cared about one thing and one thing only, and nothing else mattered. They could insult him if they wanted, they could threaten him all they could, but he would never give in to their game.

He would never become as hateful as they were.

It took a long time. It took nearly all his sanity. But then, when the first cry of the newborn sounded to his ears, hope burned in his heart again like a forest catching fire.

He ran in. He made his way despite protestations and shoved past all resistance, driven by a primal need that suddenly surfaced within him. He pushed past the warning arms of the healers, and didn't stop until he was at Killa's side, until he could hold her hand at last.

Until he could see his child, for the very first time.

It was a lovely baby boy, with already some bushy tufts of brown hair around his head. He was still red and wrinkled, crying with all the force of his tiny lungs; but in this moment, in this very moment, Athanaos felt this heated flame settle under a whole new form, that no smile or tears of his' could ever succeed to convey.

“Hello there, my little one.”, he greeted, voice shaking with emotion. “It's nice to finally meet you, Wayra.”

Killa was looking rightfully exhausted, panting lightly and sweating. She opened weak eyes, and smiled at the sight of her child, _their_ child. Slowly, she kissed his forehead, bringing him closer to hold him against her, to soothe his little lively cries. And in that moment, in that very moment, Athanaos knew that nothing could ever surpass the happiness he was feeling.

For almost immediately, someone outside shouted. And more and more voices echoed it, in a sudden panic that seemed to come out of nowhere. Athanaos raised his head, and that's when he saw what was happening outside.

They were in the middle of the day, and the sun was shining high and bright; but out of the blue, its light had dimmed down, as if veiled by smoke. And that's when he saw that the clouds had turned black, obscuring the sky like a night that had suddenly fallen over the land.

In no time, the world had been plunged into a cold, empty darkness.

~~~~~

Three days have passed since the sun had disappeared. And Killa didn't even have to listen, to hear the frantic chanting of the sun maidens from here.

She looked outside the window with a frowning brow, trying to see any traces of light through the thick fog. She didn't know how such a weather could even be possible! Was this some warmongering tactic made to scare her people into submission? No, this couldn't be the work of man. No smoke or dust could produce such darkness; this had to be the doing of demons. There was no other explanation to this dreadful shadow, looming over the world like the wings of a gigantic monster that only waited for the right time to devour them.

She looked back inside, to the tender sight of Athanaos leaning over the cradle, making cute little faces at Wayra. The baby didn't seem to like that very much, frowning and sniffling until his father eventually stopped.

“It's no use.”, he concluded. “I wonder what makes him so frowny.”

“It's the darkness. This poor child has never seen sunlight in his life.”

“It's worrying indeed.”

He very gently rocked the cradle, trying to get him to calm down.

“I wonder what's causing this. It's unlike any weather phenomenon I've ever seen...”

“It's not the weather.”, she insisted. “Whatever this is, it is the work of evil forces.”

He scoffed.

“Evil forces? That sounds a bit much...”

“But think of it, Athanaos!”

She turned to him.

“Don't you think it is strange, that this darkness happened the very day of Wayra's birth? Don't you think that means anything?”

He frowned.

“How can that mean anything?”

“The Sun God is angry, dear. He's angry at me, for having left his worship. He will bring ill upon our child, I can feel it!”

Slowly, Athanaos stood up, and held her hands.

“This can't be the truth. There's no way that could happen.”

“But what if it does? What if...what if Inti takes his revenge not on me, but on our child?”

Her voice was starting to shake as her thoughts got filled with horrible images and visions. Visions of her child being taken away, stolen from her, torn from her arms as she was helplessly crying and calling after him. And it made her shudder in fear.

“I don't want this to happen. I don't want to lose my baby...our baby, our child, Athanaos! I don't want this to happen!”

Quickly, he took her into his arms.

“And it won't! It won't happen! We won't let them!”

He kissed her hair, held her even tighter.

“We'll leave. As soon as you're better, we'll leave this place. And nothing they do will be able to harm us.”

Despite his reassuring words, she was still crying, sobbing in his arms.

“I'm scared...I'm horribly scared, my love. I don't want anything bad to happen...”

“It won't. I promise.”

He rubbed her shoulders as she cried, as she let out all her doubts and fears, as they poured out of her eyes like an unceasing stream. Since the end of her pregnancy, she's borne so much on her mind, and gotten so much hatred from the people she once called friends, so much that even she couldn't bear it. It was just too much for her, and every passing day was getting her closer to her breaking point. And that thought was the most horrible one to muster.

“I don't want them...I don't want them to hurt Wayra.”, she sobbed quietly. “Or you, or any of us. I never wanted this...”

“I know. I'm sorry you have to live through this.”

He kissed her head again.

“But you're not alone. I'm here. We're both here, and we'll make it through. And Wayra will be there, with us, and the three of us will make it.”

She sniffled, head hidden in his chest.

"...will we?”

“Yes. We will.”

He caressed her hair, holding her close. She kept crying silently, letting him hold her, until her legs felt weak and she had to sit down. As she did, he picked up Wayra from his cradle, and handed him to her.

“Here. Look at our child. Look at how healthy he is.”

Carefully, she took him in her arms, finding the right position to cradle him very gently. He had quieted down, pressed against her chest, his tiny hands weakly grabbing the fabric of her dress. She smiled, carefully brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, and that's when he opened them. She lightly gasped in surprise.

“Look at this! He's got your eyes!”

And indeed, the baby had eyes of pale gold, like drops of morning sunlight. Athanaos smiled, kissing the tiny one's forehead.

“Those are the golden eyes of an Atlantean.”, he said proudly. “And since you're the elder son of the family, my little one, it means I can bestow this honor upon you.”

And carefully, he took off the moon pendant, and passed it around Wayra's neck. It felt a little bit oversized on his tiny chest, but it added to the warmth of his complexion.

“What a beautiful jewel.”, Killa smiled. “And the necklace isn't bad either.”

Then, she reached into her pouch, and took out the sun disk.

“But I think it's best you have it whole.”

And she slid the disk back in its rightful place, making the sun medallion complete again. As Wayra's hand shyly held onto it, however, she could have sworn she's seen the metal faintly gleam, as if a beam of light had just crossed over it.

Outside, the frantic chanting could still be heard from the Temple, as if the voices of the maidens were somehow carried out tenfold in the darkness of the hills. But no amount of reverences would be able to make the sun reappear, she knew it. Nothing had worked so far, nor prayers nor chants nor offerings.

Which meant they still had one thing left to try.

“Athanaos, isn't the goal of alchemy to find the secret to immortality?”, she asked after a moment of thought.

He looked at her strangely, obviously taken aback by the question.

“Um...it is, yes. But...why do you ask that now?”

“And you founded an order of alchemists, right? Which means you know a lot about it.”

“I...I have, yes.”

“So...”

Oh gods, her question would sound so stupid now, wouldn't it?

"...can you bestow immortality upon someone?”

If he hadn't been kneeling by her seat, he'd likely have fallen down somehow with the jolt he just did.

“What!?”

“I mean it. Is there a way to cheat death?”

His eyes were as wide as cups, completely befuddled.

“What is that talk, now? Where do you get such ideas from?”

She sighed.

“Just answer me. Is it possible, yes or no?”

He still was shocked out of his mind, it seemed. At such insistence, he could only shrug.

“Well, if it were possible...we'd know it by now, I mean. There's ways to live longer, but...sheer immortality? That's not possible.”

“Not even if you wish it very hard?”

“No! It's just...it's not possible, that's all!”

He tilted his head.

“Why do you suddenly want to know about that, anyway? What does it have to do with...well, anything?”

In that moment, she felt awkwardly stupid. All she could do was avoid his gaze, feeling as if she wouldn't be able to explain.

“You'll think I'm stupid.”, she just sighed.

He blinked, confused. But then, he gently held her hand, coming closer.

“I won't. I'm just...wondering what you're thinking about, but I'd never think you're stupid.”

He kissed her fingers.

“You've proven time and time again that you're a smart, brilliant woman. I'd even say that, had the circumstances been different, I'd have gladly accepted you into the Order of the Hourglass.”

That made her smile. This man had such a talent for it, it was extraordinary.

“Well then, I'll believe you, I suppose.”

“You will, indeed. So, what's worrying you?”

She thought of her words for a time. Then started exposing her worries. The fears she had on her heart, the looming sense of impending doom that could fall on their head any moment, like a cougar in the jungle waiting to strike, to find the right moment to jump out of the darkness. And as she spoke, cradling her baby protectively against herself, Athanaos seemed to understand.

“This is...this something very dangerous we're dealing with, my love. This has all its chances to go wrong. I don't even know if I should tell you any of this, it's...no, it's just too dangerous.”

He held her hand.

“I will never let them harm you or Wayra. Never, do you hear me? I would rather die than ever let them hurt you.”

“Please, don't say that. You know it's not right to say such things.”

He stared at her for a moment, but then turned his head away.

"...there is a way.”, he eventually said. “But...it's complicated. It's very theoretical, and I'm not sure it even works. But technically...immortality is possible.”

And he proceeded to explain. He explained to her how the two goals of alchemy, the quest for immortality and the making of this magical metal called orichalcum, were actually much more intertwined than alchemists thought. Orichalcum had an interesting propriety that made it able to react to the conscience, the presence of living beings. Several experiments have been carried out that proved it reacted to the energy of thoughts, to emotions and could be manipulated through the force of willpower. There have been tests made on small animals, that succeeded in transferring their consciousness into special bodies of orichalcum for small amounts of time, which proved that one could indeed inhabit an artificial vessel, and possibly even move their soul between several of these.

In other terms, the secret of immortality was to transfer one's soul into a machine, which could effectively let someone live on forever. Their flesh body would rot away with time, but their soul would be there.

“However, even if one had the mindpower required to pull off such a feat, there are no orichalcum machines available anywhere. They've all been destroyed or lost to time...so this is basically useless magic I'm telling you.”

"Maybe...but now I see more clearly. Thank you."

He sighed, simply sitting by her. As he told of the mechanics of such a feat, Wayra had fallen asleep, peacefully resting in her arms. Yet the darkness was still glooming outside.

Athanaos didn't look like he's appreciated this difficult topic very much. She wanted to say something, to ease his worries or to reassure him, but something else caught her attention. Some noise outside.

"...do you hear that?”

He raised his head, and walked to see outside. And suddenly, his face froze in terror.

“They're coming.”

He turned to her, his traits paralyzed.

“They're coming!!”

She stood up, holding Wayra against her. And that's when she saw them.

The crowd of people was making its way up towards their house. They looked by no means in the mood to have a friendly chat. Some of them had weapons and torches in hand, and that's when she understood.

“They can't be coming for us, are they!?”

“What if they are?”

They looked at each other in panic. Then, acting out of fright, he grabbed her hand.

“Let's go! Quick!”

She nodded, frightened to the core. And followed him as they ran.

They ran for their life, ran to safety, ran away from the angered shouting of the furious crowd that chased after them. They ran in a direction that mattered little, as long as they were getting away from there. Killa held Wayra tight against her breast, and the child seemed to understand something was wrong, for he woke up from his sleep and started crying, shaken by the chase and the agitation. Through the darkness, a flash of lightning fell and sounded out, as if the shadowed fog had also woken up. She glanced behind them, but only saw their pursuers getting closer. And with horror, she noticed the black smoke that was rising up into the sky.

She saw the flames of the torches, that burned through wood and sent thatch ablaze. She saw the ascent of the fire, that they have unleashed onto the wooden house.

“Don't stop running!”, Athanaos called. “Don't worry about the house, it's not important! Just keep running!”

But how could she not? How could she not worry, when witnessing the destruction of her own home, without being able to do anything? She screamed in terror, and to her scream another flash of thunder echoed, scaring Wayra even more and making him cry out in fear. Athanaos held her arm close, and tried to lead her further, but her steps were starting to fall and her legs to give up on her, struck as she was with anguish. The flames, the thunder, the baby's cries, the shouting, everything was getting to her without stopping, and it felt like she was right about to give up.

“Come on! We have to get to the boat, quick!”

She could hear his voice, but it made too little sense to her, as the earth seemed to waiver under her feet, and as the rain started pouring, drenching her and making Wayra cry even more. She felt events more than she was acting them out, and let Athanaos almost drag her by the arm to keep going forward, without even watching where she was going. Everything around her was betraying her, overwhelming her with all sorts of confused sensations she could not process anymore, as if her mind had gone blank. It all was a blur to her, and past a point she could barely hear anything anymore, nothing making sense in all of this. She was lost, confused, and holding onto Athanaos's arm and Wayra's body like they were her lifelines, like something terrible would happen if she let go of either.

But in her confusion and shocked state, she was dragging them down. And before she knew it, hands grabbed her from all over, pulling her back, away from him. She screamed, screamed out to defend herself from this sudden assault, as the hands tried to pry her arms open and tear her child away from her. But she held onto him more, screaming as if to ward away those who wanted to kill her baby, curling up around him to shield his weak, crying form from all those who wanted to harm him, shouting confused words to try to make them back off, to call Athanaos for help, for anything that make it _stop, make it cease, she couldn't anymore, please, something, please, please, please, **please...**_

In a violating thrust of arms, the shield of her body was pried open, and Wayra was torn away from her, his warmth leaving an emptiness in her arms as if it was her own heart that had been ripped out of her chest. She tried to fight it, to reach for her baby, to stand up despite the confusion and the fright and the pouring rain and her tears, to get her baby, her child back, _he's crying, don't you hear he's crying, please, he needs me, Wayra, my baby, please, give him back, my baby_ , to fight the grip of the hands that tried to keep her away from him, to fight in the darkness of her senses against those who wanted to hurt him, and suddenly her voice screamed and mingled with the deafening roar of thunder that crashed down almost right over their heads, and before she knew it she was _free_ , and she's reaching for him and she's _taking him back_ , and she's holding him against her chest and _it's alright, Wayra, everything will be alright, mama's here_ , and she tries to stand between her child and everyone else that wants to hurt him, and- and Athanaos is there, he's fighting them, he's trying to resist, and more people are coming her way, but she refuses to give them what they want, she refuses they hurt her baby, and- and-

And her fear starts to _burn_ , and she feels it course through her, and it's terrifying and empowering at the same time, and she doesn't think, it's just instinctive at this point, and she holds her child close and looks up at this hateful, cruel crowd and with a single _glare_ she makes them _know_ they'll never have what they want, they'll never have him, they'll never have Wayra, for she will make sure of it. They step back in fear, and she feels the advantage coming back to her as she straightens up, like an aura that surrounds her and pushes them away, pushes away the enemy. She feels a newlyfound resolve burning through her, she feels something she's never known before, and she realizes she knows what to do.

It's all clear now.

She's not curled up anymore. She's standing up, she's facing the crowd with this resolve burning through her blood. She's drenched in rain, mud and tears, but she's standing, protectively embracing her child against her, looking at these people in the eye. She doesn't want to run. Running will not keep Wayra safe. There's only one solution.

“My child is not responsible for this.”, she spoke out, her voice sounding out in the sudden silence. “My child has nothing to do with this darkness.”

“So you speak, fiend!”, someone said. “The moment he was born, it settled over us! The moment he first breathed in, was where the sun retreated!”

“He's not at fault here!”

She took a deep, shaky breath to help calm her thumping heart.

“I am.”

Lightning echoed her words.

“I have angered the Sun God by betraying him. I have birthed this child and defied his rule. I have fled from my role as a Virgin of the Sun, and I am the only one to blame.”

In the crowd, she only now saw the blue dresses of the maidens, that had joined in the chase. Those she had once considered her sisters, her friends, her family. Those that now shunned her for what she chose to do.

“I am the one who challenged the Sun God's good will and benevolence! I am the one who turned her back to his guidance! I am the one responsible for this darkness!”

She placed Wayra in Athanaos's arms, and stepped forward. Wind was blowing like crazy around her, fanning the scalding flames of her determination.

“You want a culprit, and you have found it!”, she shouted out, raising her arms to the sky. “You want a scapegoat, and you have found it! You want someone to pay for all of this, and here I am! Here I stand before you all, in all my impish audacity! And here you are, doing nothing to seize me! And here I am, asking in Inti's name: _what are you all waiting for!?_ ”

There was no reaction as she spoke, like a witch announcing some terrible catastrophe to befall the land. No one moved, no one made a single sound. Not even Wayra was crying anymore.

And then, the rain stopped. It slowed down, thinned out, and came to a full stop, leaving nothing but wind and wet earth behind.

Someone pointed at her.

“She's the one causing all of this!”

“Let's kill her!”

“Don't let her escape!”

But this time, Killa made no motion to escape. She opened her arms to the crowd, and they got a hold of her.

~~~~~

Athanaos screamed.

He ran. He ran after her, trying to hold her back, to grab her arm, but several pairs of solid hands stopped him in his rush.

“Let go!”, he ordered. “Let me go, let go of her!”

“You're going nowhere, foreigner! You've caused way too much trouble as is!”

“You don't understand! _Let me go!_ ”

But they didn't. Instead, he was thrown back, almost falling on the ground, holding Wayra tight against him.

“Your arrival has brought nothing but tragedy, foreigner! You've turned this innocent maiden into a witch, and your spawn has caused Inti's anger! Be grateful we're not disposing of you, like we should!”

Athanaos's body was trembling. He didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't know! He was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or to form a coherent word. How come he wasn't doing anything, as his wife was being led to the Temple, to suffer a horrible fate?

His vision got blurry, his eyes welling up with tears. He tried to move, to step forward, but his body wouldn't obey. It's like he was frozen in place, much more so than by the villagers' grip. Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he _do something?_ Why could he only _stand there_ , while his wife was being taken away from him? _What was wrong with him!?_

His breath was shaking, his throat hiccuping in shocked anguish. In his arms, Wayra was trembling, frozen cold in all that rain and chase. In a thrust of worry, he managed to gather enough forces to hold the child closer to his chest, his eyes still transfixed on the path where they were taking her.

A loud noise sounded out behind him, and he barely could turn his head to see what was going on. People have found the ship, and were pushing it to take it to the water. He tried to move, to tell them to stop, but his muscles refused to respond. He was too deep in shock, in cold and in many other overwhelming sensations to move as much as an arm. His wife was being taken, his house was gone in flames, his ship was being stolen and his baby was horribly cold, and he didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he truly felt utterly helpless.

Hands grabbed his arm, and tugged him forward. He jolted up as if burned on something, and only them seemed to wake up from his trance.

“What do you think you're doing!?”, he asked, recovering the use of speech.

“We were wrong to let you stay with us. You've been a danger for far too long!”

“We will _not_ make the same mistake twice. This time, stranger, you're definitely out.”

“What are you doing!? Wait!”

He tried to resist, to fight them, but they were many, and in way better condition to fight than he was, shocked and with a baby in one arm. Wayra started crying again, as the boat finally touched to the water in a great splashing noise, that couldn't wet the earth more than it was already soaked.

“You can't do this to me! You can't! Let me go! Killa, where are you!? _Killa!!_ ”

But they made nothing of his supplications. Before he knew it, he had been forced onto the deck, almost thrown like a sack of grain.

“Leave, stranger! Leave this land, and never return!”

“If you or your spawn ever set foot here again, there will be horrible consequences!”

“You can't do this! I won't let you!”

He tried to leave ship, to return to solid land. But before he could figure out how, the combined forces of the crowd had pushed the boat further into the water. He wouldn't be able to make it without hurting Wayra, and all he could do was watch in horror as he started drifting away.

“I won't let you do this!”, he kept calling. “You will all pay for what you've done!!”

Without he could stop them, his tears started crying. Holding Wayra close to his chest, his teeth gritted in sudden fury, he stood with all his might, trying to force himself out of panic.

“Hear my words, you traitors!”, he shouted out. “You who have broken the Sun Emblem! Your gods will not protect you forever! Coyolite, protector of Atlantis, will rise up against them and defy their rule! You will all pay for what you've done!!”

That seemed to have its effect on them. And Athanaos counted on it. He knew he had nothing of a curse master, but he was full of rage and grief, and the power of emotions weighed a lot in the power of Atlanteans. He knew it. And what he wished most in that very moment, was to make sure they regretted everything they've done.

But then, as the ship was being led away by currents, all he could do was fall on his knees and cry.

He cried out. He cried everything he needed to let out of his heart. In the span of one day, he's lost his wife, his home, he's lost everything he had. He was reduced to a mere shadow of a man anymore, he was as lost and confused as he was when he first shipwrecked here. Yet this time, it was much more horrible and heart-wrenching, for this time he had lost all that he cared about.

But that's when the tiniest of tugs on his hair reminded him that this time, not everything was lost.

Slowly, he opened his teary eyes again, and saw his child's face looking up at him. He wiped a tear off his eye, and sat up, taking him against his chest.

“My poor, poor little Wayra...”, he whispered. “I'm so sorry you had to go through this. I'm...I'm horribly sorry.”

Quickly, he took off his torn-up cloak, and wrapped it around the baby's cold body, gently rubbing him to warm him up.

“You've barely been born, yet you've been through so much...it's horrible, it's horrible that you have to live like this now...”

He held him close, trying by all means to warm him up. In response for his efforts, he got a very tiny sound out of him, a little coo that made him smile wide.

“But it's going to be alright. Do you believe me, my child? It's...it's going to be alright. Yes.”

Still holding him, he carefully stood up, watching the Inca village slowly become smaller and smaller on the horizon. In the sky, the darkness had started to dissipate, and the sun began shining anew, making the sea glimmer a light blue.

He knew it was useless to call for her. He knew that wherever she was, she would likely be unable to hear him. Perhaps she couldn't hear anything anymore, in this moment. But still, he felt like he had to try to reach out to her, despite everything that separated them now.

He closed his eyes, and let his heart do the rest.

“ _Shine, while you live, and have no grief at all… For life is not eternal, and Time demands his due._ ”

The waves were lapping at the ship's hull, the seabirds cawing over his head. The wind was blowing through the reeds, making the sails flap, and that's all he heard.

For a moment only.

“ _Shine, and don't regret, for life must carry on… Have no fear for the future, for I will think of you._ ”

He smiled, feeling his heart thumping out again, but not from fear. He wasn't afraid anymore. Because everywhere he'd go, everywhere Wayra would go, she would be there. She was part of his life, part of their lives, and if he wanted to remember it, he just had to look back on the path they have walked together.

And so, they took some last few steps together before departure, by letting their voices harmonize a last time.

“ _Shine, and please remember, you'll never be alone… My time here might be over, but hope will linger through._ ”

He did not want to open his eyes. He did not want to dispel the illusion. But he knew he would have to, that he would have to carry on alone, that he would be alone to guide Wayra on his own path. No matter how hard, how twisted the path of fate was, he would have to keep walking it, if only so her sacrifice would have meant something.

“ _Shine, my dearest darling, do not await me there… Keep on living for me, and I will wait for you._ ”

He opened his eyes. In the horizon, the village had disappeared from sight, and there was nothing around but endless blue. Slowly, he looked down at Wayra, and his peaceful face made him smile.

“ _Keep on living for me, and I will wait for you..._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't regret anything. Do you?


End file.
